Felix Felicis Fortuna
by dragonblade3200
Summary: This is Harry's tale, his redemption, his fall, his war. Dumbledore isn't as good as Harry hoped, Voldemort isn't as different as he thought. A night of healing with a flask of Liquid Luck provided by the mysterious Half-Blood Prince leads to Harry's fate
1. Chapter 1

I go back… and I find it's all a joke!

It is January 13, 1996 a Tuesday. I have just had my first Occlumency lesson. I feel as though I have been violated in a way more terrible than anything else I have ever endured. I will later learn, much later, that Snape did not due this to me willingly. The method of Occlumency training that Snape has used was ordered such by my esteemed Headmaster. Sirius would kill both of the men in a second if he heard about it… he might have succeeded too if he hadn't been imprisoned since his escape from jail… Ironic, huh?

It is July thirty-first, 1991 when I hear the name Voldemort for the first time. Hagrid, the gentle half giant is afraid to say the name aloud and knows not how to spell it… I find this rather foolish. After all, isn't the Dark Lord supposed to be dead?

It's December 22, 1995. I've just returned from school and am now hugging my wrongly convicted godfather after having spent the last four months away in Scotland. He whispers in my ear how proud of me he is for saving Arthur Weasley's life just the night before. He knows how hard it's been for me the past year with Professor Umbridge's totalitarian rule of Hogwarts, Voldemort's attempts to break into my mind with Legilimency, and Dumbledore ignoring me… Come to think of it Dumbledore's always ignored me when it mattered most… My mind drifts on that for a second. That night I dream on all the times I had been ignored by the man when he could have helped simply by paying attention and actually listening to me.

Once more it is my first year, 1992, June 4 to be exact. For the first time since I was a small child am I in the presence of the Dark Lord Voldemort… And despite the fact that I am the reason he is disembodied he does not try and kill me immediately. I receive the first of three offers to join the Dark Lord, this time he offers to resurrect my parents from the grave. But I don't _want_ my parents back like that. I am a child and yet I know it wouldn't be _true_ life. When I refuse he attacks, though not with intent to kill until my mother's protection's hurt him.

I go forward again and now it is June 24, 1995. I have just witnessed the rebirth of the dark lord Voldemort and the death of a young man whom I could have easily seen myself becoming friends with. As I lay on the soft moist grass a crowd cheers for me. Underneath me lies a human body, already starting to cool. To me it is as if the people are cheering the return of the Dark Lord that will kill so many of them. I can't help but hate them for the briefest moment. They are sheep… but then I remember: they are sheep that are going to die. My heart falls into true depression for the first time since I learned I would not be able to live with my godfather. Though it is forgotten in the rush that follows I lift my head enough to see 'Mad-Eye' Moody and Albus Dumbledore walk towards me. I later learn why Moody is grinning, but why is Dumbledore smiling behind his thick facial hair?

I stand, looking on in a silent awe on May 29, 1993, as the specter of a boy writes his name in the air with my wand: TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE, his name, is spelt out there. With a wave of my Holly wand the letters rearrange: I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. At that moment, between that revelation and the conversation starting back up I can't help but look at him… He doesn't look too much different than me, save for being five years older… I guess Tom isn't that uncommon of a name either… not too unlike Harry…

It is June 9, 1994. Dumbledore has just passed me and Hermione on our way back into the infirmary after saving my Godfather, Sirius Black, from being kissed by a Dementor. It is only years later, during the events that led to my decision, that I ask some very important questions. Why did Hermione, as smart and mature as she is, have a highly magical and dangerous object like a time tuner, just so she could take more classes? How is it that Dumbledore didn't know how Sirius was getting into the school, or where he would be staying? By all accounts _he_ was the one that ordered a tunnel to the Shrieking Shack constructed for the sole purpose of allowing Remus passage into and out of Hogwarts.

It's June 24, 1995 again, though prior to returning to Hogwarts with the portkey. I am tied to a grave somewhere in Northern England. Voldemort uses my blood, unwillingly taken, to resurrect himself. After this he offers me a position as one of his Death-Eaters: "Allow you to serve me willingly among my faithful!" are his exact words. When I refuse he grin's and proceeds to untie me and have Wormtail give me my wand. We duel and I feel the power of the Dark Lord. I only survive because of Old Magic once more: this time due to a connection between our wands. This is the second of three offers I will receive from the Dark Lord.

Now it is December of my second year and Professor Dumbledore has asked me to come to his office. I spoke Parseltongue for the second time that I can remember the day before and today I stumbled on the petrified body of a Hufflepuff boy named Justine Finch-Fletchley. Dumbledore asks me if there is anything I would like to tell him. It is two months later that I learn that the Headmaster is subtly accusing me for the attacks.

It is the middle of my History of Magic OWL, June 16 1996. I am currently receiving a vision from Voldemort of Sirius being tortured in the Department of Mysteries… It doesn't strike me _then_ but much later on, that Voldemort has never used our link, or however he is breaching my mind, to attack me for memories like Professor Snape does. No, Voldemort has only ever used it as a means of communication, whether intentional or not, truth or lies. This thought is nether comforting or worrying… just odd.

And it is now 1992, the end of my first year and I sit here in the infirmary. Dumbledore has just told me that I will have to return to the Dursly's once more, despite him claiming to know how much I hate it there. I am young and naive and will not learn that Dumbledore has had a woman watching me be abused for the last ten years of my life… He _does_ know how much I hate it at my _home_… he just doesn't care.

June 16 once more, 1996, and I watch two men fight. Dumbledore versus Voldemort. I am amazed and frightened by what I see. Though I find it how ironic that Dumbledore has used several curses that one might be considered Dark and is quite brutal, despite how peaceful he seems otherwise… The fact that a man like Dumbledore can be just as savage as the Dark Lord… it frightens me most of all.

It is some time in the early 1980's when a young toddler is forced into the cupboard under the stairs with a thin blanket and a bucket. This is his birthday present after spending the past three quarters of a year with his new family…

It is June 18, 1996 and my fifth year at Hogwarts once more, though right now I am in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic, watching as a man gets hit by a stunner. It wouldn't be so bad, except he is falling backwards into the Veil of Death… I watch, horrified and pulling against the restraining arms around me, as Sirius Orion Black, my godfather, falls backwards into Oblivion… When I finally break free from my restraints I do not follow Sirius as I so wish too. Instead I run after Belletrix Lestrange, the woman who killed Sirius.

That night I killed for the first time, though I don't realize it.

That night I cast an Unforgivable for the first time.

That night I manage to throw Voldemort's Legilimen's attack out of my mind at point blank range. He is considered to be the world's foremost expert on Legilimency from what I have heard. I know though, if he had been searching for memories and _not_ trying to possess me, I would never have been able to stop him in time.

That night I heard for the first time the words given by Professor Trelawney: "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches.…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not.…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither shall live while the other survives.…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_

That night I was told that the Power that the Dark Lord knows not was love… followed not long after by being told that I had, _had,_ to go back to a loveless home, have no contact with my friends… I want to cry and do so as soon as I am away from the thrice damned fool.

All of this passes me by in a matter of seconds, since it is all in my head. As I lay here crying in a broom closet these thoughts enter my mind of my own free will. I want to hate Dumbledore for what he's done to me, for what he _hasn't _done… and I find that I do.

It's all a joke. The man who should be my closest confidant seems to have joy in my pain and suffering and has brought upon quite a bit of it himself, knowingly admitting as much. The _thing_ that I should hate and revile I finds myself looking and comparing myself too at times… I am afraid that we are not that different, though I will remain in much denial about this for the next month or two.

Oh well… it's a Joke! Ha ha. Well… I feel better already, despite the tears that are streaming down my face.

* * *

It is now 0200 on July 2nd. I've been 'home' now for two weeks. Exactly one week ago today Emmeline Vance was killed and Amelia Bones, the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was nearly killed, both from Death Eater activity. The ironic part: Bones only survived thanks to the presence of her niece, Susan, whom I helped train. The news of such was the last post I received this summer.

My thoughts aren't on that though.

Neither are my thoughts on the fifty muggles who died in a Death Eater attack. They had destroyed a rather large bridge the same day Vance died and Susan saved her aunt…

No, right now my thoughts are on the small care package I received my last day at Hogwarts.

For what is probably the twentieth time since I received the plain brown box I open it and look at the contents. Inside are a pair of faded jeans, a red button down shirt, a plain white undershirt, a blue bandana, and a new pair of nice shoes. All top brand stuff too. On top of all of this is a single object, the only other object in the box: a metal flask.

Now, I wouldn't have a problem with this stuff usually… Its muggle goods and none of the dark witches and wizards I can think of would know _anything _about muggle goods, or manage to deliver them to me while in Hogwarts.

The problem is that it's from a wizard of whom I have never even heard of, let alone know. Besides that… they're muggle goods. Of all the witches and wizard's I know, light _or_ dark, they all either don't know me well enough, don't have the money, wouldn't get me these things, or don't know the muggle world well enough to get them. Truth is told I _should_ have given all these things to a teacher before I left school. Hermione would have told me to do so, heck, she'd have told them herself.

But, then again that's why I didn't tell Hermione about this.

It came with a very simple note, written on parchment. The note… it brought me so much pain from the references to Sirius, pain which I feel day and night. Yet, in the same letter it offers me a way to start healing the hole left in my heart from Sirius' passing.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_May I first offer you condolences on the loss of your Godfather, Sirius Black. I did know the man through our school days, though I can honestly say that the two of us never did see eye to eye. Despite this I am sorry for your loss. Sirius was one who could lift the hearts of all men and women just by walking into a room, even if you hated the man one could not stop from smiling at his antics._

_I too know the feeling you may be going through now. You feel lost, as if you don't know what's left living for, like you don't know what to do or who to turn to. It's a suffocating feeling that condenses in your breast and forms a block of ice in your gut. I also know that while the feeling won't go away for some time, that there is a way to help it along._

_Thus have I sent you this package. Enclosed are the necessities for a night out on the town. While this may not be your idea of fun, I give it to you as a true and tried method, one that I used myself when I lost my mother. You will find encased all the proper clothing and, more importantly, a flask containing in it Felix Felicis, better known as liquid luck. Take a single mouthful of the flask and don the clothing, with intent to heal, and then set out for the night. You will find that the potion will not lead you astray. I will warn you though, the potion will lower your inhibitions slightly, but few others are either appropriate, legal, or safe to use, and while the potion _may_ become addicting, I have only sent you enough potion for half a dozen mouthfuls, enough for twenty four hours of good luck._

_May you have an interesting time,_

_The Half-Blood Prince_

_P.S. Do NOT mix liquid luck with alcohol; it would be quite… unpleasant. _

I had to have read the note from the Prince three dozen times or more. He was wrong though, the Prince, I didn't feel lost.

I felt numb, like a piece of me, the best piece of me, fell through the veil with Sirius. It was the part of me that wanted to live, to learn… to fight the good fight.

Maybe it would help this potion. Who knew? It wasn't the kind of decision to rush in making. For all I know the potion could be liquid luck or basilisk venom.

Looking up at the clock I see that I have been staring off into nothing for the past four hours. One more sleepless night to add to the tally. Stashing the flask and the care package under a floor board beneath my bed I get to work for the day.

Despite the _warning _given to my relatives by the Order last month, my lifestyle has changed very little. In fact, the _only_ improvement has been that I am given bigger shares at meals. But the amount of work I do around and in the house…

Each day it was customary for me to get up at six, in order to make breakfast for Dudley, Vernon, and Petunia. Each had their own specifics. Dudley, for instance would eat two hashers of bacon each morning, and four eggs, over easy, and two potatoes of hash browns. Along with that he downs about a gallon of orange juice each morning.

Vernon on the other hand goes with a 'simple' English breakfast: Four Eggy in a Basket, a half a dozen slices of ham, and several more eggs scrambled. Add to that a few cups of tea with plenty of sugar and honey.

Petunia is both the easiest and hardest to make breakfast for: A single egg, cooked to perfection, half a grapefruit, sugared so to perfection, and two pieces of toast, not too burnt, not to moist, with a light spreading of marmalade. Served with just one cup of tea, steeped perfectly.

I myself get the other half of Petunia's grapefruit and a couple of slices of toast.

Sitting down with my 'family,' after I'm done cooking, Dudley already half way through his food orgy, my uncle clears his throat.

"Boy," he began imperiously, "I recently got another promotion at Gunnings. That being said, your aunt has expressed an interest in remodeling the house."

I look at the fat man incredulously; what could he _possibly_ be planning now?

"And?" I grate out impatiently as he sat there, waiting for me to congratulate him, my throat dry and hurting from a mixture of crying and lack of use otherwise.

Narrowing his eye's he carried on gruffly, "AND, that means we need to have no one in the house while it's being done. _You_ need to get a hold of those freaks of yours and have them take you away to wherever it is your kind go!"

The man actually jumped when I barked a laugh from my sore throat, "Get a hold of them?" I ask, "Get _a hold_ of them? How exactly do you expect me to do that?" I asked, my mind turned once more towards my anger at Dumbledore before banishing the thoughts. Dwelling on that anger inevitable sent my thoughts towards the source of my anger and Sirius.

"Well, well… use that rutty bird of yours!" he yelled, poking a meaty finger at the ceiling.

"Hedwig," I began, "Has been taken from me for the summer by Dumbledore. Ms. Figg, who is a squib by the way, has been removed from Privet Drive for some reason, though I don't doubt that I have _minders_ watching over me. I don't know how to call Hermione, since I don't even know if she is at her home and not moved to one of Dumbledore's safe houses. I'm stuck here until _they_ decide to let me leave."

I tried to tune out the rant that followed, but it made me so angry!

"We never even wanted anything to do with your kind! Their nothing you freaks can offer good people that would change that!" Vernon raged on, finally hitting a nerve.

"You should be glad I _am_ here, you fat bastard!" I yelled back, standing up quickly, my anger noticeable by the flying of my plate towards a wall without it being touched, "Me staying here in this _HELLHOLE_ is probably the only thing keeping your family alive still!"

I could see as the walrus like man turned an ugly shade of puce, his teeth bared at me, "NOW YOU SEE HERE! I will not take threats from anymore of you freaks! I've had enough of you and your kind!"

"My _kind_ generally want nothing to do with your kind either! Though there are those that would rather see you _dead_ rather than ignorant of our world. I have fought against men and women who would kill you and your son, just because you have no magic! That is after they tortured you for hours on end and raping your horse of a wife and making you watch as she died! You want to know why they _haven't?_ I'll tell you why! Because I AM HERE!"

"ENOUGH!" he bellowed, standing up now, letting his chair fall to the ground, pounding on the table and breaking his own plate with his beefy hand, "I WILL NOT STAND IT! THIS IS THE LAST SUMMER YOU WILL _EVER_ SET FOOT IN MY HOME! I will kill you and ANY of your _freakish_ kind that I ever meet again; put them down like the bastard dog's they are. I should have drowned you when you were still a pup."

Sneering at him I couldn't stop the words that flowed out of my mouth even if I wanted to, "Please! You're like the _mud_ beneath our boots. You would be wiped away and thrown to the trash before you would even realize we were there!"

Petunia gasped, and Vernon's face when from puce a deep purple, "You think you know how the world works you little bastard? Please! Men can be killed easy enough. You've never seen war to know…"

I cut him off with another barking laugh, "I've never seen war?" I asked… well yelled, at him, "I've seen war! I've seen men die right before my eyes; I've _fought_ in war already, what about you _Vernon?_ What would a simple sales man know of war?"

I wanted to sit down and cry as vision's of Cedric and Sirius flowed before my eyes once more, but I didn't stop, "Whole parts of the magical community would _love _to get rid of you muggle's, cleaning up the mud that pollutes our world. I'm supposed to be a 'champion' for _your kind_ Dursly, but I've been stabbed, beaten, stuffed in a cupboard for ten years of my life. You put locks and bars on my room; you starved me and worked me to the bone… Frankly, I don't see anything _worth_ saving in this _Pathetic Little Shitehole that is the muggle world. _You _Freaks _do a good enough job of killing yourselves off, I don't think there's anything worth saving."

His next words at me were whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, "Leave. _Boy!_ I want you gone from this house by midnight tonight or I toss you out!"

"Gladly." Is all I responded with, thinking about what I'll need, how I could contact the Order…? _If_ I should contact the Order, where I could go, how I could go. Did I have minders on Privet Drive anymore?

Ms. Figg has left the drive altogether, my owl has been stolen from me, my old subscription to the Daily Prophet is either being redirected or is canceled. Hermione hasn't tried to contact me at all through muggle means, which I _know_ the Death Eaters and Ministry wouldn't be able to track.

Once I'm in my room I spring to work, pulling my trunk from my closet and immediately opening it, sorting through the objects inside it. My father's invisibility cloak, text books, parchment, inkwells and quills, school robes, and different nick-knack's are for the most part crammed inside it.

Instantly I realize my first problem: I won't be able to drag the trunk with me everywhere. Turning my head I look into the closet, which has various things of Dudley's thrown inside it, before I spot what I need. Pulling free one of my whale of cousin's old backpacks, which looked like it hadn't seen any use other than to be carried back and from school, as empty as his head, I start to sort through to see which essentials I will be able to take with me.

The cloak I set aside for now, I'm going to need it later, while the Marauders Map I prop up on the side for easy access. Immediately my cauldron and Potion's text get cast to the side, most likely I'm not even going to take the subject unless I managed an O on my Owls. Most of the books get left behind actually, while my most recent edition of _Standard Book of Spells_, _Intermediate Transfiguration_, and _Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts _went straight in. I don't think I would have been able to leave the last one behind… Sirius gave it to me.

Swallowing, I fight back the tears… Now's not the time, I need to be strong and get moving soon. I don't want to put it behind me but I can't let Sirius' ghost haunt me forever.

"Clear your mind… Clear your mind…" I start chanting, losing myself in its steady monotones rhythm.

Still chanting I begin to work once more, already feeling calmer… Damn, Snape was right about Occlumency and my emotions.

_The Dark Arts Outsmarted,_ _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, _and _My Favourite Spells_ get left behind, much to my dismay, but I rationalize it as me not doing too much practical Defense work outside of school. In a Spur of the moment decision I throw in my Divination book, _The Dream Oracle._ "If I'm going to have a Prophesy handing over my head, I better study the stuff at least a little." I mutter to myself, groaning at the thought of reading through one of Trelawney's texts already.

I only throw in two changes of outfits right now, deciding that I'd just have to make my way to Diagon Alley to get more rather than carrying it all around with me anyways. Following that thinking I only hold onto a single ink well and parchment scroll.

By now I was to the bottom of my trunk and started sorting through the random nick knacks and broken bits from over the years. The first thing I pull out makes me the angry.

It was a key… a silver key with small insect wings on it. With it come the memories of my first year and fighting to save the Philosophers Stone. I feel so angry because my Dreams of late have been less dream and more memory.

"Why did three first year students need save one of the world's most powerful magical artifacts?" I asked aloud, "Why Dumbledore would put the wizarding community in that kind of danger… Forget the community, why put the students in that position?" Muttering to myself loosely, in a mocking Dumbledore fashion, "The third-floor corridor is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death!" I throw the key into my newly salvaged backpack and reach in to the trunk once more.

This time I pull out a piece of a shattered mirror.

"Clear your mind… Clear your mind… _Clear your mind!"_ with my eyes closed I put the object on the floor, trying not to let my own sadness fill me.

Reaching inside again I pull free the Portable Sneak-O-Scope that Ron had bought me from Egypt. Deciding against it I throw the cheap Dark Detector into the rest of the pile beside me. Looking in I decide that I have enough to get by, as the rest of the junk in the trunk is broken or not so fond memories.

Hurrying once more I look at the time, it's nearly two thirty already. Pulling up the loose floor board under my bead I throw the few salvageable items into my backpack along with my vault key. At the _very_ least I will be able to keep the clothes'. Popping open the flask I look inside at the golden liquid before rereading the note that came with it:

"_The Potion will not lead you astray"… "Enough potion for half a dozen mouthfuls, enough for twenty four hours of good luck."… "May you have an interesting time…"_

"Half a dozen mouthfuls, eh? Well, I feel like I've _more_ than overdue for a good day Felix!"

Putting the flask to my mouth I take two large gulps of the liquid, only four more mouthfuls to go.

As I lower the silver bottle from my lips I can feel the magic of the potion start to work. The dark fog that had covered my life for the past weeks seemed to lift, the dark's got lighter and the lights got brighter. For the first time since before the school year ended I could feel a true, genuine smile grace my lips. I didn't feel anger or sadness… they weren't gone, they just seemed so… trivial, now.

Looking down I note the top of the back pack is opened. "You know… The Prince wanted me to wear those clothes when I went out… I would be rude not to!"

Three minutes later I'm sliding down the banister with my pack hoisted on my shoulder, avoiding Dudley as he stormed up the stairs with Piers Polkiss not far behind. Getting to the bottom I instantly make my way to the kitchen, grabbing a few quick bites from the meal that Aunt Petunia is preparing for that night.

Before I walk out I see Vernon's wallet on the table, bulging with money right out of the bank. The fat man always made it a habit of having a lot of money on him, ever since before I can remember. Probably compensating for something.

Not even pausing to consider it I snatched the imitation leather up and stuff it my back pocket, heading to the front door.

Subconsciously I know that taking the front door is most likely a bad idea, as that is where most of the Order members, if they _are_ watching me, are going to be camped out. At the very least I should throw the invisibility cloak over myself… But, I had a really good feeling about how things were going. Slamming the door behind me I hear some rustling in the bushes followed by a loud- **Clunk! **as a piece of roofing falls off the house.

"Afternoon Dung!" I said cheerfully, looking at the unconscious face of Mundanges Fetcher, before picking up the invisibility cloak that was draped over his shoulders, making him look like a head lying in the mud. "Now, now Dung, leaving a magical artifact laying around like that in a Muggle neighborhood? Bad form."

Shoving it into my backpack I keep walking calmly until I'm at the end of the drive way, off in the distance I can hear loud music playing, coming closer…

'_Guess that's my ride!'_ I think joyfully, hiking up the black backpack once more.

As the vehicle came around the corner I lift one hand to my mouth and put the other in the air, shouting out in jubilation, making the passing truck come to a stop. There were maybe three people in the front cab, and two more in the bed of the truck, that I saw, fast paced music blasting from speakers making the whole vehicle shake, and more than a few open containers. The driver leaned out the window at me, a wiry guy with a cute little red head on his arm, "Oi, where you heading?" he shouted out to me so I could hear over the music.

Spur of the moment I shouted back, "That Rave down in London tonight, though I don't got a ride so I'm hiking out early!"

I knew I had done good when the guy gave a huge grin, "Nice, hop in back with the others, it's a little tight but you'll manage. We got a friend holding a big get together before the Rave and then heading there ourselves!" Walking to the back of the truck I looked at the people in back, seeing there were in fact three others there, all women. "Sorry 'bout the squeeze back there mate." He said, shooting me another grin.

"I think I'll manage." I sent back at him, hopping over the side and between two of the girls in one fluid motion, "Hello Luv's, names Harry, Harry Potter!"

The next eight hours were a rather large blur of excitement. It felt like everything I touched would turn to gold, every word produced a laugh or coo, and even my very look was enough get what I wanted or needed.

A backyard barbeque turned into a roaring block party, which in turn lead to a rather large group heading out to a Rave, which ended up with me meeting a rather pretty brunette, both slim and tall and tight in all the right places. I bought drinks, paid for the whole groups entry, threw money left and right without a care in the world and I was loved for it.

I remembered what happened next in such clarity only because the Felix Felicis was wearing off as it happened, the world beginning to come back into a clear focus. I remember stealing a strong drink from the guy next to me, both her and I eyeing each other from across the room and downing our drinks. I got up and wandered over to her table, pulling free my flask as I did, taking another mouthful of liquid luck to go with my liquid courage as I reached her. Another girl with vibrant green hair was sitting with her, eyeing me with amusement. Before I succumbed to the potions power and descended into a haze of light and emotions and tiny touches that made everything so surreal I asked her to dance, making her grab the flask from my hand, taking a mouthful herself.

A second after downing the golden liquid her eyes lit up and she looked up at me with eager eyes, a reflection of my own I'm sure. She said something then, of that I am certain, though what I don't know, telling her friend, something that started with a 'D,' not to wait up.

And then we descended into a haze the color flesh and filled with touching and biting and wet desire. I rode her, she rode me, we satisfied each other in any way we wished. We bared all for each other to see, and filled each other in a thousand different ways. There were gentle kisses and violent ones, she scratched my back and I pulled her hair, she gyrated her hips and I rubbed her in all the right places.

Three hours we remained like that before the cloud began to lift once more, my back up against the headboard of a bed I didn't remember getting too, her naked body straddling my own as I kissed and felt her, moving over her body inch by inch.

"Oooh… oh, keep that up…" she moaned into my ear, as she continued to kiss and lick my neck.

"Mm-hmm." I hummed back, moving my attention from her neck down to her collar.

I could feel as she rolled her head back, cursing, "Shit, and I don't even know your name… My father would _kill_ us both if he ever found out about this."

Pulling away from her collar I look her in the eye's, "I'm Harry, just Harry." I said, grabbing one of her hands and trailing kisses down her arm starting at her finger tips and working my way down.

Giggling she watched me do this before responding in kind, "Well, Just Harry, I am Tracy, Tracy Riddle."

The name struck a chord in me, how could it not? And I answered my name in kind, "Harry Potter." And then I saw the mark on her arm, I had taken it for just a muggle tattoo in the heat of the moment, but now that my mind was clearing once more I could see it for what it really was, The Dark Mark of a Death Eater.

The name, the mark… me, there was no way it was a coincidence. Looking up at her in the eyes I saw that they were now wide as could go, her face a pale white. Idly her eye's floated up, noting the lightning bolt shaped scar on my forehead.

"Voldemort!" I cursed, making her flinch just lightly enough for me to get in the first move, placing my hands under her breast and pushing her off me and tumbling off the bed.

Diving I leapt for my pants, not finding them on this side of the bed, grabbing the first thing I could to defend against the girl who was now trying to kick me in the head. Her bra held together just so and her foot bounced off though it did nothing to stop the piece of cloth from ripping afterwards or the punch that followed shortly after, sending me over the bed and into my pants where I grabbed my wand and brought it up, only to have it knocked from my hands.

"Oh, give me a break!" a growled as I ran forward and tackled the slim girl bringing her to the ground. At first I thought I was winning, then she moved just right and was on top of my back, her knee's digging into my calf's and my arms being pulled backwards in an excruciating manner. Now I'm small for my age, but come on! I tried to force my way free, only to have her pull on my arms harder.

"You lose Potter!" she whispered into my ear, just as sexily and sultry as before.

"Only one problem," I grunted back, her pressure on my legs really starting to hurt.

"And what's that?" she asked with amusement, her lips right next to my ear once more like planned. Her question was soon followed by my head slamming into her face. It didn't make her let go, but it _did_ unbalance her and make her loosen her grip enough for me to flip us. I grabbed her arms as I went over, pinning them over her head, my waist between her legs our chests parallel to one another.

We were both breathing hard after our naked wrestling match, our faces both hurting and prides hurt. And then our lips met in another fierce kiss, our hips grinding once more, though neither of us going for full release again.

For a few minutes we stayed like this before I pulled away, eager for more that I knew I couldn't have.

Panting I started our little chat, "So… Miss. Riddle, is it?" I asked, seeing the sharp look in her eyes, "The daughter of Voldemort." And that sharp look turned into dread and misery, her head sinking down to the floor.

"How… How did you know?" Tracy asked, looking up at the ceiling fan that spun lazily, "Nobody knows what the Riddle name stands for."

"It helps that I met the man a few times, been to his father's grave once too." Looking at the young girl, seeing watery eyes, I loosened my grip, "If I let you go can we talk like civilized people and not like we're in a bad kung fu movie?"

Nodding her head I released one of her arms, holding the other to help her up. She retreated onto the bed, pooling the sheets around her shoulders, hugging her legs with hands full of bedding.

Slowly I made my way around the room, finding pieces of clothing and putting the pants and undershorts on, leaning against the wall across from the young Riddle girl, eyeing her, my wand now safely in hand.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle." I started, "A straight O+ student, Slytherin Prefect in Fifth year, awarded for Special Services to the School in the first half of his Sixth year, and Head Boy in his Seventh year. He came up with a new name using the letters from his full name. Tom Marvolo Riddle turned into I Am Lord Voldemort. I personally always thought that he hated his Muggle fathers name, though here you are, bearing the name Riddle. What's your full name?" I asked, truly curious.

Looking up at me she smiled, "Why Harry, I'm surprised you didn't recognize me once you heard my name, though I guess you wouldn't have, not having talked to me… I am Tracy Davis Riddle, Slytherin Sixth year."

I blinked a few times, taking her face in more carefully. She _did_ look rather familiar, though to be fair I had seen what her father looked like before he became a snake-like monster. Tracy Davis did ring a bell too, though it coincided with a tall sporty blond girl from Slytherin house, not a brunette. "Did you spell your hair, or use a potion maybe?" I asked, watching her roll her eyes. "Right, obviously, so the Dark Lords child has been sitting in Hogwarts right under Dumbledore's nose?"

"Well," she drawled, "I clearly don't advertise my father, now do I? Besides, I didn't know who he was until the end of our fourth year. My parents had always told me that I was only my mother's child, though I would inherit my father's estate no matter what." Taking a deep breath she continued, smiling gently with fond memory, "I was treated like royalty by my parents and their friends without ever knowing why, though the children never acted differently. In truth they all seemed to answer to _Malfoy_ if it could be said that anyone was treated differently among that ilk. Then the incident with the Triwizard Tournament: you come back with a dead Diggory and two days later, the night I returned home, my parents bring me a new fine robe and a golden mask in the shape of a skull. At first I thought they were going to present me to become a Death Eater… and then they told me: I would be going to meet my father… I was going to meet my BIRTH father… The Dark Lord."

Looking over at me she smiled grimly, "He hadn't known what had become of me, since neither of my parents was ever marked. In fact the nearest relation I had that was a Death Eater was one of my father's third cousin's. And then, that night, they came before the Dark Lord bearing a young child in a Golden Mask and he knew… Without even looking for more than a second he knew and I saw the most powerful man in the world, a man so evil that he is said to have no soul, smile with fondness, love, and genuine happiness."

My face fell at this and all I knew was anger. Rage even. It must have shown on my face too, since Tracy backed away from me, pulling the blankets closer to her. Breathing deeply I calmed myself, repeating in my mind the mantra, _'Clear your mind, clear your mind, clear your mind_' and it actually worked… again. Damn I hate Snape.

Calmer, I noticed that my hand hurt… Oh, it appears that I had punched a hole in the wall. I guess _that's_ why she backed away in fear… I really hope I wasn't paying for this room.

"…HARRY!" she yelled for the third time, finally getting my attention, looking at me awkwardly.

'_Must think I'm crazy.'_

"I'm Sorry Tracy." I said calmly, my face feeling much more relaxed now that it wasn't scrunched up in anger, "Something that you said reminded me of what Dumbledore told me. I trashed his office when he said it for the first time."

"No… No its ok, I just…. When you're angry you get this look in your eyes… and then the calm look from Occlumency right after it, it's frightening. Like having a madman tell you in a fit of rage that he was torture you and do unthinkable things to your body… and then becoming a composed calm man that is capable of actually carrying it out ."

"Right…" I said, not knowing what was to come next.

For a few more minutes we were silent. I put the rest of my clothes on and prepared to leave when she spoke up from her spot, "He wants to meet you, you know."

My response was quiet, "I know… He wants to kill me."

"He wants you," she responded immediately, "of that I have no doubt, and perhaps at times He wishes you dead. But truthfully He… well He is impressed by you, though I personally think He admires you. No one else in our world has as much potential as you do, not me, not Malfoy or Granger, He looks at you and see's the future of our world. I think the only reason He hasn't given out orders to _not_ have you killed on sight is to test you, to push you even farther. If you came to Him under the old Code of Parley He would meet you, with no tricks and no deception's."

"Why would I _want_ to meet with that madman?" I asked, looking over my shoulder at her shocked face, "He kills and orders innocent lives to be taken. He lets his followers rape and pillage and commit unspeakable atrocities in his name. Why would I want to meet him? He killed my parents."

"He tried to spare them!" she yelled back, "Your mother _and _your father both. At one time He tried to recruit them, when it came down to it He offered them three chances and three times they turned Him down. Between them and the Longbottoms the Death Eaters would have been unstoppable, or so He seems to think. And when it came to that final moment, for your father especially, He honored them, showing no mercy and giving no quarter."

"How would you even know?" I asked, looking at her incredulously, "I mean, he came after my family to kill a child, and his followers tortured the Longbottoms into insanity."

"THAT was a mistake, and the Lestrange's will pay for it as well, perhaps even more so than my... than Barty Crouch did. Besides, that the Death Eaters are _not_ allowed to lute and pillage and rape as they please… Sad to say it, but more than a few Aurors and ministry cleanup workers are responsible for those. The Death Eaters who _did_ commit true acts of war were punished, if not killed. Father abhors rape in any form, be it through force of strength or strength of Will with the Imperious Curse. All things that are stolen are used by the war effort, never just taken for personal gain, though more than a few have tried. And as for the killing… Innocent, though I use the word lightly, Muggles are killed without thought, but in truth we try not to kill any magical being without due cause, even the Muggle-Born. But if you will condemn _us_ for killing without a second thought, then you _must_ condemn them for the years that we lived in fear of them."

I watched, amazed at her logic, as the girl gave a cold laugh, "We still live in fear of them. Why else would we not show ourselves in this 'enlightened' age? They would ensnare and use us to fix all of their wrongs and create their image of utopia: a land where they rule and we are enslaved! Can you honestly say that, physically speaking, you are any stronger than a muggle man or I than a muggle woman? Take away our wands and only a few would have knowledge to stay free and safe. A locked door would stop me if I had no wand. And World War Two _proved_ that if it came down to it Wizards would stand no chance against Muggles on a large scale. They outnumber us and the powers they have can destroy whole cities at a time, something lost to the ages of yore for we few magical folk."

"And you… You could meet with Him… Should meet with Him, because you, no matter _who_ wins this war, are the future of our people. He has wished for immortality for decades and has something close… but even He knows that one day He will die. And so am I here, _His_ contribution to the future of the magical world."

"And what could he offer me?" I yelled, angry and confused, "My Parent's? He already made that offer once! My First year when he returned as a specter, and I turned him down. In my fourth year he offered me a place among his Death Eaters, and I turned him down. Last year he tricked me into going to the Department of Mysteries and… and because of that my Godfather is dead! He possessed me, he violated my mind in such a profound way. He has nothing to offer me!" I ended on a self righteous note, believing it true… Only to have my argument destroyed with but a single word:

"Freedom!" she said, looking me in the eyes. The word just hung there, sitting for the world to hear. "He can give you freedom. From Dumbledore, the Ministry, from reality if you so wished it, though I doubt you would enjoy that before a few decades in Azkaban. Freedom to use magic as you would, to learn and study, to go where you wish and do as you please. That's what he truly stands for to his followers. We have, for the past three hundred years been living in a society that is ruled by a corrupted head: Fudge, Bagnold, Leach, and Spavin, four of the past seven Ministers and each was worse than the last. And to top it all off we have Dumbledore now!"

"Dumbledore is a great man!" I yelled, not truly believing it, but having it engrained into me over the last five years.

"Dumbledore is a Tyrant!" she yelled back, "In what other place or time has a person held the position as the Head of the Courts as the Chief Warlock, the Grand Sorcerer of our Main Legislative body, the Supreme Mugwump of the International legislative body, the Head of our world's largest and most prominent school for the young, as well as being a lead of the Order of Merlin, our worlds single greatest Lobbying organization."

I had no answer, she was right there. No man should hold so much power. "He… He has too much political power." I conceded, "But he has _never_ used it to attack others."

She just shook her head sadly, "No… not overtly so. But… I heard a kid in school mention once that: with great power comes great responsibility. He hasn't _used_ his power to help anyone other than the Muggle Born. But he _has_ used it to limit what magic can be used at all. We, the purebloods, see that, and our leader see's a better future for our people, one where we can be free…" if only she knew how much I wanted to be free, especially from Dumbledore, how good it sounded… But _Voldemort?_ Why did it have to be _his_ side that I would feel like this towards. Why did it have to be a war of Grey's, not Black versus White.

"You want it too." She said at last, looking at me more softly, crawling to the edge of the bed, her blankets still wrapped around her shoulders as she stood, though she was doing less to hide what was underneath, "I can see it in your eyes. You want to know what it's like, to live from the other side, rather than the one that you have been stuck in. You didn't get to choose your side in this war, it was chosen for you… But my father would let you choose, be it for or against him. You CAN do it!"

Looking at her calmly, I told her the one big argument that remained, "I won't just crush my morals." But as soon as I uttered the words I knew I had lost.

"And you won't have to." She said, wrapping her arms around me, "Do you think that we are men and women without morals? If men are just, laws are useless, and when they are wicked laws are broken. My father would have us all be just men and women, able to fight the good fight and not afraid do what's necessary without compromising who we are."

Pulling me into a deep embrace, the blanket wrapped around us both she placed her forehead against mine, looking into my green eyes, I into her own pale green orbs. "Just talk to him… hear him out." She said, kissing me gently, softly pulling me back down onto the bed.

* * *

We watched the sun rise that morning, from atop the roof of the twenty eight floor hotel, both of us dressed at last. The room, I learned, had been hers. Well, technically the whole floor was hers, so the ruckus we made was lost on all save the people in the room below ours and the other guest staying with Tracy, the green haired girl from the night before.

The young daughter of Voldemort sent me away in the morning, ordering me to go buy a book in Diagon Alley called the _Codex Parley_ so I could know what to expect and how Parley worked.

So one trip on the Knight Bus later and a trip to Gringotts to get some more gold from my vault I bought the book, along with a new set of robes with hoods to hide myself with, and decided to take a short trip down a much darker looking part of Diagon: Knockturn Alley.

Truth be told, Knockturn Alley isn't as bad as others make it out to be. A little grittier, yes, a little dirtier, defiantly, a whole lot poorer, without a doubt. But I grew up in filth and grit and not a penny to my name. Hand me downs were appreciated when I was younger. So I recognized the people here for what they were: The wronged and poor. People who stuck together, as no one _else_ was willing to fight for them. The Death Eater's? They had an uphill battle to be able to help these people still. The Ministry? They were the ones to hurt these people in the first place and even if they _would_ extend a helping hand, who said the people would take it?

Something had to be done, be it Voldemort or Dumbledore.

I finally found what I was looking for, knowing that the _whole_ wizarding world couldn't be as uncultured as it appeared. It might not have been a meat I was used too, but a burger was a burger none the less.

So what if it came from crup's? I didn't even know what a crup was yet!

Sitting there, burgers in hand, I began reading the Codex. Truth be told it _was_ rather interesting. Essentially it was a meeting between opposing forces in order to come to some sort of compromise on certain topics, to make a trade, or even just to talk in a peaceful setting. Parley was _not_ magically enforced, as it originated with muggles during the middle ages. But the magical world was the only ones who still used it.

Most of the old families placed a lot of stock in parley and the Codex, using it as a guide to meetings of necessity. Voldemort wouldn't break the Code of Parley for one reason: his followers. They feared him, yes, but before fear came respect. A lone wizard was not a revolution, he was a terrorist.

There were ways a person could break the code on accident, the largest being from perceived insults or even carless ones. It was possible to gain a little leeway there though, provided the participant's exchange gifts of good will before talks even start. Well… I knew one thing I could offer him, I _knew_ he wanted it…

Bringing wands was allowed, though they were to be placed on a table between the two participants before any words were exchanged, another, necessary sign of goodwill. Any other weapon or threat would be seen as breaking the Parley and, provided the conditions of the meeting were more formal, compensation could be required… Something tells me I'm not likely to get compensated if he brings a couple dozen goons.

Other than that it was pretty straight forward, dealing mostly with matters of honor and intermediates and other things that could require recomp on the part of the offender.

The most important part would be getting the message through to the Dark Lord, though I guess Tracy would handle that part, as she was the one to come up with the idea.

My thought was confirmed while I ate my last burger, having finished the rather small book. A brief, searing pain was all I felt before a voice filled my mind… His voice.

"_Very well Harry Potter… My daughter has relayed your request and I have accepted. I eagerly await your arrival at my summer home in Little Hangleton. I've had it spruced up since your last visit to the family cemetery. My child shall escort you here from her hotel, at the stroke of midnight…"_

And then he was gone and I had a headache the size of Wales.

"Clearly I have made some bad decisions." I announced to nobody in particular, getting a, 'here, here!' from the drunk little wizard behind the counter and a nod from the serving witch.

I traveled through the Alley for the rest of the day, waiting out until it was time for me to find Tracy, noting that, the later it got, the more people there seemed to be. Knockturn and Diagon were like polar opposites, one waned at night and the other during the day. In truth it held an enticing magic of its own.

The people and things in the alley were surprisingly… normal. I tight nit community, one that was more free to express itself than the one up above. That actually surprised me, that Knockturn was beneath Diagon Alley in the literal sense. But in the metaphorical… it was so much better. Imagine if you will a Bazaar or a muggle mall, one that combined the traditional of a culture with the modern taboo, and add a bit of the bizarre that those in the 'norm' never think about, and you have Knockturn Alley. Though where Diagon is tall and looming Knockturn is multi layered, quite literally being a dozen floors the size of the Diagon, one atop the other, making it the closest thing to a city in the wizarding world.

There was no day, there was no night. People could be found here at anytime, unlike up above where night fell and the crowds dispersed. People could be seen and heard talking without the fear that the other alley held and music was played freely, some cultural, some new, others simple strange and more that was stranger yet. More than once, from beneath my hood I saw a man or woman I knew to be a Death Eater walking and talking free as could be.

But the one thing I didn't see? Crime. Nobody stole and nobody was mugged or attack and there were no random Death Eater attacks like all of us in Gryffindor always imagined here, there were a few woman who offered their… wares, to men and more than a few hag's and people of mixed parentage who offered to sell and buy things of the darker nature, but it didn't seem wrong… on the contrary…

Was everything I was taught about our world wrong…?

I hope so.

* * *

I have to admit, I _was _pretty nervous about this meeting.

I mean, it wasn't enough that I was meeting with the man who killed my parents, was partially responsible for the death of my godfather, had started not one, but two bloody wars, was seen as a Dark Lord and one of the strongest wizards to have ever lived…

But I had to go and sleep with his daughter.

"Stop worrying!" Tracy scolded me from across the room, looking at me with amused eye's.

"Easy for you to say!" I responded, "By the end of the night you aren't the one he's most likely to kill!"

Smirking she just nodded her head, going back to reading her book. Between the two of us was a rather awkwardly glaring Daphne Greengrass, who had insisted we stay on opposite sides of the room. She had not only heard _about_ last night, but been unfortunate enough to have woken up to the sounds of it and was now paranoid at the thought that, and I quote:

"The Dark Lord will know I was with her and might think that I knew what was going to happen and think that I should have stopped it and kill me and I reallyreallyreally REALLY don't wanna die yet so I'm keeping you two as far apart as possible so he doesn't get the idea that I thought it was a good idea for your two to shack up and kill me, cuzIreallydon'twannadieavirgin!"

Yeah, just like that… one breath, rushed parts, no haults… Hair still had strips of green in it too. She had apparently been so paranoid that she didn't have the frame of mind to wash out the entire potion that they had used.

Less than half an hour before we were to leave I pulled the small flask from my hip, instantly earning a glare from Daphne.

"What's _in_ that thing anyway?" she asked, eyeing the shiny metal warily.

Smiling and putting the open lid to my lips I answer, "Liquid luck." Before taking a swig.

Instantly the girls eyes widened, in jealousy, horrified amusement, and amazement, "You mixed liquor and Felix Felicis?" she asked, a horrified look crossing Tracy's face, "_Both_ of you did actually! That's _GREAT!_"

"Who's side are you on?" the young Riddle girl asked, blushing like crazy.

"My own." Greengrass answered, still laughing, "But you already knew that."

At this point I'm still lost. I _am_ failing potion's after all… and as much as I hate to admit it, it isn't _all_ Snape's fault… I really do suck at it. Never did like cooking or gardening and after the Dursly's potions and herbology are the two classes close to them.

"Ok, I give up!" I announced, looking between the peeved and amused girls, "Why don't you mix Felix-whatever-it-is with alcohol?"

Tracy just glared at me. Luckily Daphne was feeling generous.

"They don't mix properly." She said simply, "It reduces the effectiveness of the potion and alters its properties slightly. Normally everything you do is more likely to happen in your favor when you take the potion. Well that still happens… but it also acts as an _extremely _powerful aphrodisiac when you ingest liquor, making you more randy and just as likely to get what you want."

Oh… I must have had a really stupid look on my face, "So it becomes a 'Liquid Get Lucky' potion?" I asked, getting a grin from the two girls.

"Just be glad I was on the potion!" Tracy yelled back at me, a big smile on her face, "I knew the sex was too good to be true…" she muttered, eyeing me up.

Daphne was eyeing me too, looking like she wanted to know whether the mini bar came fully loaded.

The remaining time until we departed passed quickly, and with a smile I took Tracy and Daphne's hands, letting the Portkey take hold, my mind filled with a desire for this meeting to end in the best possible way…

The last time I had seen Riddle manor from the outside it was night out, but even then it looked… less than pristine. The inside I had seen once as well, in a dream I had before my fourth year. It had been a royal mess. Yellow wall paper, peeled paint, missing floorboards, terrible lighting, and a ceiling that had defiantly seen better days.

Now?

The floors glistened, so polished that I could see my reflection in the dark hardwood. It was lit to perfection, not too bright to where it was blinding and not to dark where I would have to strain my eyes to see anything. The walls looked great, priceless artifacts and antiques everywhere, yet not so cluttered as to make them seem messy. And the ceiling? Hand painted, a work of art, like a Celtic version of the Sistine Chapel.

We arrived in a front foyer, a large set of double stairs leading up to the second floor, an awe filling chandelier right in the middle.

Immediately I was being tugged along by the girls, both of whom were grinning like maniacs. I couldn't help it. I had seen Hogwarts, and she was amazing… But Hogwarts was NOT high class society at its finest.

Composing ourselves we finally entered the final hall. I could see the door at the end where Voldemort would be waiting. We approached, I calmed myself, speaking my newly found mantra of 'clear your mind' to myself internally.

She raised her hand and knocked, getting a respectful, "Enter."

She turned the handle and the door opened…...

To be continued.

The tale of a Lucky Fate, Will it be Harry's fall into the dark? Will it be his redemption back into the light? Read and Find Out! Give comments, their all welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

The instant we three entered that quaint little study we all changed.

Daphne's posture changed instantly, any smile gone, back stiff, chin raised. If it weren't for the remnants of green in her hair it would have been _very_ intimidating, I'm sure.

Tracy was similarly inclined, though at the same time more relaxed, more confident than her friend. Though for her it was not meeting her lord, but her father who loved her.

I was a little more guarded, trying to take things a little more seriously… Honestly, but it's so hard to be Sirius when you're on Liquid Luck. I'm sure that horrified look on that house elf's face was because I was smirking as I walked in the door.

It appears I was able to calm myself a little… too well! Not that it would last long.

The room itself is rather plain. It is the man inside it that made it impressive. Voldemort was still snake like, in his own way, but other than that he looked… Human.

Red eye's, check. A dark aura, check. Pale white skin, check.

But beside that he looked like a much older version of his teenage self that I had seen come out of the diary in my second year. He was dressed like an aristocrat, all dark colors with splashes of gold and silver in just the right places. His black hair was slicked back, not a speck of grey in sight. Currently he was bent over a mahogany desk, making a few markings on some parchment.

Without a word or a look up he straightened up, gracefully showing me a hard wood table where his wand already lay, along with three chairs near a burning fire that didn't raise the heat in the room to unbearable levels like it should have.

Walking over I placed my own Holly and Phoenix feather wand next to his own Yew and Phoenix feather…

"Huh… guess yours _is_ bigger than mine." Were the first words of our parley, making Daphne's eye's bug out and both of the Riddle's grin, his with a slight tilt of his head.

"Mr. Potter…" he began, his voice still scratchy and quiet as always, though still so commanding and calling for attention, "Though it is always appreciated for my… superiority, to be noted, I did not invite you here to see who had the bigger wand. I do believe there is the minor matter of the war at hand that we should discuss first, yes?"

Grinning I nodded my own head, walking to take a seat while the other two greeted their lord and father, respectably.

"Father, it is a pleasure as always." Tracy said gracefully, simply bowing her head.

"My daughter, please, there is no need to be so… formal." The man responded, lifting her face by the chin to look down into her eyes, caressing her face lovingly, "I dare say Mr. Potter will not stand on formalities overly much so."

I really couldn't help it, "Well, not unless we need to duel, in which case _I_ insist we bow at the proper time and places!" I said, making the man chuckle. I guess that's what was what needed to be done to get the best possible outcome for tonight.

"Indeed." He responded, taking a few sniffs of the air, "Ah, I see, Felix Felicis. How very cunning of you Mr. Potter. It does not break the Parley in any way and in no way does it harm your chances here tonight." Turning his head he looked towards the last of the threesome to enter the room. "Miss. Greengrass, I must once again thank you for escorting my daughter this past week, and I assure you that it was as noble a task as any for a promising Death Eater's first mission. She has had nothing but good things to say about you this past year… And neither do I blame you for her indiscretion's. Those will be handled later though. For now, let us open our Parley with a show of good faith and be seated on equal terms in the here and now."

Ah, good. Not true 'gift giving' just announcing that we were looking upon each other on an even playing field. I only had one or two things I could really offer anyways, and since I wasn't convinced on this yet I didn't want to sell Snape out… _quite_ yet.

Actually, only Tracy and him sat, Daphne stood at attention behind the two of them, her face an emotionless mask.

"So…" I started out, "A daughter?" Getting a raised eyebrow in response, "I was under the impression that you _hated_ your father's name? Come to think of it you seemed pretty disgusted by it and the man himself last spring."

"Ah, yes, I am not the biggest fan of the man, though it was not long until I came across the man's writings and those of my… _mother_." The look on his face when he said the word was purely loathsome, "My muggle father was, in fact, the greater of the two, much to my shame. My mother was a witch of nearly squib like magical talent, and she took my father through the use of potions. My father, in his writings, realized that something was not right, at times he would come back to himself briefly before being dosed again and start the cycle anew. In truth it was, I admit, rather impressive." Seeing my look of disbelief the man smiled a cold, dark, and charming smile, "Though it broke his mind in the end, that a muggle could resist the effects of Amortentia, the world's strongest love potion, when muggles are not supposed to be able to fight off the effects of even the weakest mind altering spells and potions?"

"Remarkable…" I said in an awe filled voice I did not realize was my own at first, his voice had been… captivating. "You, are using voice charms!" I announced.

He smiled at that approvingly, "And _you_ are using Felix Felicis." The aristocrat said, "and, just like the use of Liquid Luck, the use of voice charms without compulsion's is allowed in Parley."

"Touché!" I said with a grin, internally chanting to myself once more, "You are also using a glamour." I said, seeing shocked look come to Tracy's face. Apparently she didn't know.

"Touché." he said in his soft, scratchy, and amused voice, turning to his frowning his daughter, "I did not wish to frighten you with the aftereffects of my revival last year, they were… less than glamorous."

I was actually smart enough to _not_ say anything here, though a number of things popped into my mind that I was sure he picked up on, based on the change in grip of his seat's arm.

"I… I understand father." She said in a small voice, "We will talk of that later… I do not appreciate getting lied to." Internally I was laughing at _who_ she was saying this to.

"Indeed… Now, Mr. Potter, I think we have more important things to discuss… To be honest I was rather surprised at your calling of Parley, and not merely at the thought that you would actually know what it was. You are my enemy… I have wronged you at every turn, killed your parents, struck you with visions and pain, used you, possessed you, and attacked you with the intent to kill you… And yet…" he left it hanging there so I picked up.

"I blame her." I said simply, pointing my finger at Tracy casually, "After she was done beating me up she mentioned that you would be willing to meet with me… Told me that you were interested in me personally… among other things about my parents and our world."

His smile became, if anything more genuine. Either he was the world's best actor or he truly felt what he displayed. Probably a mix of the two, "They were great people Harry Potter."

"They fought against you tooth and nail."

"Misguided perhaps, but great none the less." He retorted.

"Ollivander said something much the same about you. That you had done great things. 'Terrible but great none the less,' were his exact words I believe." And indeed the old man h_ad _said as much. "You tried to recruit them before." I said then, looking at him, "And for some reason, right before she died, you offered to spare my mother."

This was the first thing that I had said that actually surprised him, "And how would you know that, I wonder?" he said with curious eyes.

"You should feel honored, not even two and it was the most horrifying thing I ever witnessed." I answered with a bittersweet smile, "The the Dementors of Azkaban have had a most… peculiar effect on me."

"Fascinating!" he said before continuing on with the conversation at hand, "Yes, I offered to spare her. It was a request from one of my faithful. But I knew she would say no, any mother would have done the same."

"And the Longbottom's?"

"They were the doing of my misguided son and poor Bellatrix, not me. He is now gone and Bella is… barely useful as a follower."

"Son?" I asked, getting a feral look from Voldemort. Bellatrix Lestrange… Rabastan Lestrange… Rodolphus Lestrange… "Barty Crouch Jr. was your son?"

"Was." Came Tracy's voice, "Fudge made sure that he was taken out of the picture. My brother lived a wretched life in the end. Whereas the Lestrange's and other Death Eaters were tortured by Dementors he spent every waking moment fighting for control of his own mind and body against a wizard nearly three times his own age. Only to be freed and destroyed after a single year…"

The dark lord simply bowed his head, his red eyes glowing all the more fiercely. It became rather clear to me that this war of his, which had perhaps started as a revolution, had become much more personal over the years. What other friends and loved ones did this man lose that had driven him so far into the brink?

"My… My condolences." I said at last, wondering where my luck was now? "To be fair he was one of the more… competent Defense teachers I have ever had."

"He would have been…" the man answered, "I must say, he is part of the reason I am so interested in you." At my questioning look he continued, "An O+ student in his class, able to compete in the Triwizard tournament with very little help from him, save in the last task, you out flew a _dragon_, saved two hostages rather than one, and out dueled Viktor Krum, who is a masterful duelist himself. In addition to that were the rumors that flew around the school about you… Tell me, did you really find my Chamber of Secret's?"

Raising my eyebrow I looked at him, "_Your_ Chamber of Secret's? Last I checked, the statue of the large monkey man in the main hall there was Salazar Slytherin, not Tom Riddle."

The Dark Lord looked un-expectantly pleased by this answer, "So you _have_ seen it. A Parseltongue as well then?" he asked, both him and his daughter looked at me expectantly.

"Um… Yes, though I need to be looking at a snake to do it." I answered uncomfortably.

"_(Nagini!)"_ the man hissed out, though it sounded like strangely spoken English to me.

"So you're a Parseltongue too then?" I asked Tracy as the large snake slithered up to its master.

I got a Cheshire smile from the girl, "Yes, though I had only heard rumors about your little incident at the dueling club in second year. I hadn't ever talked to a snake before fourth year ended. It was how father proved to us both that I was his child once and for all… _(Nagini, Dear,)"_ she hissed towards the large snake that was now wrapping itself up Voldemort's chair"(_we need you to ssspeak to our friend here, to sssee if he is able to underssstand your most honorable of languagessss)"_

Twisting its head between the two of us the snake bowed its head before looking towards me, _"(of coursssse Misssstresss. It would be an honor.)"_

Looking at the large snake carefully I focused like I had back in the Chamber all those years ago, _"(I am at a losss for wordsss at the moment… You are Nagini, yesssss?)"_

"_(Indeed hume… I am the massterssss Nagini)"_ it responded.

"_(You are the one to attack Arthur Weasssley in the Department of Mysssssteriesss…)"_

The large green snake moved forward, wrapping itself along my arms and shoulders now. It was both cool and freaky at the same time, _"(Perhapesss… Where wasss thissss? I have attacked many things. What issss an Arthur Weasssley?)"_

Voldemort is the one who answered, picking his snake up off of me and placing it back onto his own lap, _"(now, now, Nagini. Yessss, you attacked him, and the Weasssley is a man. You may go and hunt again dearest.")_

Tracy was the next to speak, normally once more, "Loves that snake more than me." She commented, "I can't believe it… The only other Parseltongue of English decent is Harry Bloody Potter."

"Indeed." Voldemort said next, "Untrained, yes, but still… it is a mystery I guess."

"Well…" I knew at least one theory on how I was a Parseltongue. Though to speak of it would be a great betrayal. So far I hadn't done or said anything that would stop me from returning to Dumbledore. But to speak of this… it would be the first brick in the wall.

Then again, Dumbledore seemed to have been building the wall up from his own side for years now.

"Dumbledore has a theory on how I am able to speak to snakes." I said at last, damn the Headmaster for all he had never told me and refused to still. I am a free man. "When you tried to kill me in eighty-one he thinks a piece of your power entered me, or more importantly my scar. That's why I can look through your eyes at times and you can send images and pain through to mine. I guess a piece of you got stuck inside me and acts as a tunnel of sorts. I was _trying_ to learn Occlumency to block out the images you kept sending me of the hallway leading to the Hall of Prophesy's, but it did not work."

If anything the glamoured man looked more surprised than anything at this revelation. "I have only used the… tunnel… thrice since discovering it. Once to send you the image of your godfather, once to possess you, though that you fought off, and once to send you the confirmation of our meeting tonight."

"Yeah," I huffed, "Left a headache the size of Scotland you did." Making the man smile.

"That would be you learning basic Occlumency and having it defeated. In truth it was the first time I even noticed the faintest of protections around your mind… Hmm…" for a few seconds the man sat in contemplation before answering, "It could be that those glimpses of the door were from my subconscious. A dream perhaps. I did not become aware of our connection until you saved Arthur Weasley… I have a… _very _peculiar bond with my familiar, that allows me to see through her eyes or even speak to her if I wished it so. That anyone else could break into the bond seemed impossible, until my informant spoke to me about your dreams and why Weasley was not dead."

"That Greasy Bat!" I practically shouted, "He told Snape about those dreams?" I asked, not waiting for an answer, "What in the world was he thinking?"

"You know of Severus' position?" he asked me in a deadly quiet voice, the other two Slytherin's looking quite upset by the news as well…

"Yes…" I announced, not caring if I damned the man at all… not realizing what it would mean for me, "He is a member of the Order of the Phoenix, he plays games with everyone, right up there with Dumbledore. Only giving enough information to be useful and apparently only giving enough to you to do the same."

"Indeed… I will have to think on this some more. And I guess thanks are due." He said, an oily smile on his face.

It made me pause as what I had done dawned on me: I had just ousted the Order's single greatest informant on Death Eater activity. I was no better than Pettigrew… A traitor.

The man didn't even need to read my mind to know what I was thinking, "You are not a traitor, Harry." He said, catching my eyes, "Imagine, if you would, a man. He has been raised his entire life, to believe that something is true. Day in, day out, it is re-enforced, this belief. And then one day… he learns it is a lie. That is you Harry. You have gone your entire life in the wizarding world believing that Dumbledore is right about everything, that the side of the war you have been fighting for is infallible in its reason to fight. But it isn't. Dumbledore is a spider, spinning his webs to ensnare us all in… and you have broken free only so recently that you do not know what is right. You are reticent in what you wish to give away one second and willing to give away other things the next. You do not have the full picture yet to know where you wish to land."

"Tell me then!" I answered so quickly that I didn't even know what I had said before it came from my mouth. "Fill in the blank spots, that's why we're here, isn't it?"I asked, calmer but just as determined. THIS was why I was here, _this_ is what I needed to know.

"As you wish." He said simply, standing, pacing before the fire. For a second it reminded me a bit of the old stories of Sherlock Holmes, all that was missing was Watson and a violin.

"For me, this war began as a way to change what was wrong in the world." He started, "I will not deny that my actions were not so altruistic in the beginning when I began gathering friends and followers. Back then I wished for power and immortality before all other things. Natural talents was already mine and power came easy enough, immortality was achieved, in a limited form by my sixth year, with the creation of a powerful object that I placed a piece of myself within."

The diary, I realized, was what he referred too. Internally I also realized that it couldn't have been the only such creation, as he was still here and living, when he hadn't been resurrected for two years after its destruction.

"After my school days I had two goals remaining. First to gather the artifacts of the Founders, believing they would grant me immense power. Second was still immortality, as I believed the single object I had made was not enough. I created more of these powerful containers for myself, one after another, as I realized that the artifacts of the Founders had, over the years, lost their magic. Slytherin's mighty Locket, once allowing Slytherin to command dragon's, did nothing. Hufflepuff's cup that was said to heal any ailment save old age itself did nothing but cast away weariness. By the time I found the Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw I had given up hope on that front, as the Diadem, once said to have granted Ravenclaw her amazing wisdom did nothing but give me a headache. So instead I turned my pursuits back to my own people."

"I found a society already bursting at the seams. In my time in Hogwarts I had learned that Purebloods hated the Muggle-Born and Half-Bloods and Muggles, of course. But I never really learned _why_ until I looked into the reason further, after my failed search for power. In truth the Purebloods didn't know why they hated these people so much, I had to tell them why. It was because what Muggle's stood for: the Death of Magic. The Witch Hunts of old still haunted us, and the hatred that the Muggle's were able to inflict on their own was staggering. We had just witnessed it first hand, you understand, with the Holocaust. Gellert Grindlewald had been behind the rise of Hitler and the start of the World War… But it had been Hitler and Hitler alone that had taken his hatred to the point of ordering the deaths of _all_ the Jewish people. In the end, shortly before Dumbledore had dueled the Dark Lord, Grindlewald took his revenge on the Nazi party leader, driving his madness to the point where the man, weeks later, took his own life.

"Now, I saw Muggle-born children coming into our world in greater and greater numbers each year. They were just as magically powerful as us, that was not the problem, but they did not understand our culture and in many cases tried to change it to adapt more to that of the Muggle world which they were so used too. The Muggle world that had so recently killed millions of its own for nothing. Add to that that each child that came to us from the Muggles brought with them two Muggles, at the very least, who would now know of our world. Then there were the Half-Bloods, A witch or wizard bearing a child to a Muggle-born or Muggle. The mere union of these two was not a problem, but when a Magical being weds a nonmagical one more people are let in on the secret, perhaps more than just the one they wed as well, the extended family. Not to mention that a wizard in the Muggle world stands out like a sore thumb, just as a muggle in the Wizarding world would."

"Each and every Muggle that knows of the Magical world _could_ potentially be the one that breaks the barriers between our two worlds. What then? Organized religion is still a huge force in their world, so there would be billions who would wish us dead right off the back. The governments and armies would see us as either a threat to their power or something they could use. Slavery, torture, being treated like cattle… That's what we would be. Not to mention that we could not beat them back. Our magic _pales_ in comparison to the might of the atomic bomb. Our numbers are insignificant next to that of Muggles. And each decade they advance farther and farther."

"Now that we knew _what_ was the problem, we looked to change it through the law… But the law was corrupt. The Half-Blood known as Albus Dumbledore refused to hear anything negative against his mother's people and my friends that were in the positions of power at the time were cast down as leapers for speaking against the 'poor Muggles' who had suffered so in the recent war. Looking back we realized how our government had been corrupted years before, as early as Grogan, who split our world into Beings and Creatures. Any who were creatures being given less rights, and more responsibilities. Werewolves, Vampires, Merefolk, Giants, Trolls, and Centaurs are all magical Creatures that meet the requirements for being listed as Magical Beings, but were classified otherwise."

I interrupted here, needing a clarification, "But Centaurs and Meremaids _chose_ not to be Beings." I pointed out.

"No." he responded, continuing with his lecture, "Centaurs chose, Mere_folk_ were given no such choice. The Conclave that had been created met in a forest, not far from a large Muggle city and at least a mile away from a sufficient water source for the Merefolk to get to. This was done because many did not wish to have to deal with the Mere. Similarly Giants and trolls could not attend as they would be noticed by the Muggles, Vampires because of the time of day, and Werewolves because they were only 'werewolves' on the full moon were noted as being absent and got classified as beast's, despite the infected folk who were indeed there."

"But this was beside the point. We looked back and saw corruption in the past and in the future too. We realized that if our world was going to change that we needed not to change the law… But to change those who _made_ the law. We needed a revolution. So in the sixties we gathered numbers, starting quietly and peacefully, spreading the word through the twist and turns of Knockturn Alley and the back streets of Diagon. I was placed at the head, surprisingly, as being the last of Slytherin's heirs, the one who had seen what my ancestor had seen and the strongest among us all. I took up the name I had created in my fifth year, an anagram of my full name-"

"I Am Lord Voldemort." I answered for him, already knowing it.

"Correct, Voldemort, a combination of the French words Vol, de, and mort, a literal translation of Flight From Death, the perfect name to lead a revolution out to prevent what we saw as the Death of Magic. Likewise my followers became the warriors who would fight at the forefront of our war against Death."

"Death Eaters." Supplied Tracy, having heard this before.

"Correct again. It did not take long for the revolution to take off, with the war truly starting in sixty-nine. I was branded a Dark Lord by the Wizengamot and the ICW thanks to Dumbledore, though it was more than earned at that point. I _had_ steeped myself in the dark arts quite thoroughly, leading to my state of semi immortality. The war turned ugly though. Both sides recruited and used the Unforgivables with nary a thought. Barty Crouch was actually the one that pushed through that piece of legislation, one of the few old Purebloods that had resisted the call of the revolution. In truth I believe his willingness to use those curses was in part due to the fact that he loved the son his wife had borne and wished to remove the one who had conceived him, so that Barty Crouch Jr. would always be _his_ son."

"Eventually things began to stagnate. Our side thought that we were losing; their side thought _they_ were losing. I was still personally recruiting back then and _did_ have to make some hard choices. With the war coming to a standstill I began to target certain individuals for recruitment and or death. The Longbottom's, two of the finest Aurors ever, the Bones', the Prewett brothers, McKinnons… a _fine_ family that I regret having to fight against, but they had all taken Muggles as husbands and wives and became a rather large threat to our way… And the Potters. Your parents in particular, along with the Longbottoms, were the two families that could have turned the war in our favor. Your father was a prodigy in Transfiguration, even becoming an Animagus before sixteen, an amazing feat. Your mother though… A Charms Mistress at twenty, an honorary Potion's Mastery before she even left Hogwarts, and an avid student of Runes and Arithmancy all through and after her Hogwarts career and ready to lay the foundations of the next generation by the time she was twenty one. By then she had also worked for the Department of Mysteries as well as a volunteer with the Auror's."

"And then came the Prophecy."

"'_The One with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, Born as the seventh month dies…'_ that is all I know of what she had said. I… was never a student of Divination, and what little faith I held in the more mythical arts disappeared with my failed pursuit of the Founders legacies. But he… Severus had made the announcement of the prophecy before many of my closes followers. I _could_ not ignore it then, or else I would be seen as weak. My lead had been started based on the fact that I was the best duelist and strategist, it was held during the start of the war because I _proved _I was a strong and able leader, and towards the end, when things got rough I kept it still because I was feared, no one dared challenge the man who had been in the forefront of the fighting since the start, was known to be a master of the Dark Arts, and self proclaimed himself to be immortal. But the thought that I would simply disregard something that sounded so dire and they all held much faith in? It would have been a sin."

"So I called those around me and swore them to secrecy, never to utter a word of what they heard to anyone, an Unbreakable Vow, and searched for you." I received a morbid grin here, "Needless to say, half a prophecy is not the best thing to guide one's self with. I believe you are much more familiar with what happened next?"

"You were stuck without a body," I answered, "only a soul, until you found Professor Quirrell in Albania. You possessed him and soon learned of that the Philosophers Stone would be in Hogwarts. Eager for a body and true immortality you went, offering us," I said, indicating us three students, "one of the worst years of Defense Against the Dark Arts _ever!_"

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed at this point, "It was _not_ me teaching the class. My presence in his mind caused complications and I was not even awake most times, just often enough to give orders and ideas."

"And to feed off of the Unicorns." I shot back, "That's probably why your resurrection didn't restore your body the correct way, your consumption of Unicorn Blood. Any who kill such a pure being is doomed to a cursed existence." Surprisingly he nodded his head in agreement.

"Most likely." He supplied, "Though to be fair, I would not be here if I did not. I could feel the connection to my soul quickly loosening and I strengthened it."

"Right… But you failed to get the Stone. So you returned to Albania somehow."

"I was banished back. Hogwarts herself banished me back to the place my spirit had last rested. And since I had joined bodies with Quirinus in Albania, and he was no longer in existence, I was sent there."

Interesting… I didn't know Hogwarts could do something like that. "Eventually though you found Peter Pettigrew and Nagini, and soon after that learned of the Triwizard Tournament and Barty Crouch, and planned for my kidnapping and your resurrection." Seeing his nod to the affirmative I finished, "Things went _mostly_ to plan, and you got to get the war started back up… From there I think it's pretty standard."

"Yes… It was the last major task within my mind, this revolution, so it stuck with me through my banishment. In particular though, I wished to know _what_ had gone wrong. So I sought out the prophecy, to no avail…. And now… but two and a half weeks later, here you are, sitting before me with both sides of the war laid out before you… Please, think about this all very carefully Mr. Potter. I only ever make three offers to those who would become my followers. The first time I offer something in return, such as when I offered you your parents, the second time I offer without saying a thing, seeing if they would join simply for the sake of joining… The last time I preferred to do like we are now, sitting down and talking to them, telling them our story from the start, relating to them if I can. For they are the ones I truly respect. The ones who wait and listen and learn what our cause _really_ is. Your own parents listened and found me and mine wanting. I can respect them for that, just as I can respect you for this. Either way you chose, this is Parley, you may leave at of your own free will without fear for your life… Please think about this."

Well shit… when you put it like _that_!

Truthfully I was still a little confused about it all… But the world seemed so much clearer now. The Purebloods fought for something they truly believed in. Some didn't really think things through as clearly as Riddle did, but others I'm sure had. The Half-Bloods and Muggle-Born's, though, either didn't want to listen or refused to give up on _their_ ancestry. Heck, by this generation many probably didn't _know_ why the war had started off in the first place. Truthfully there had been more selfish reasons for people to try and overthrow the government.

And then there was Dumbledore.

My breast still burned with anger whenever I thought of him. He had done so much against me and so little for me. He pushed me and prodded me. I had no doubt that he thought of me as some sort of insect in his webs to further his own ends… And who knew how much longer he would hold his positions? What was the name of the one examiner for the ICW? Marchbanks? She had said she was the one who had given Dumbledore _his_ NEWT's in the 1899! She was at least twenty years old _then_, probably much older, and yet she is still working today. A man with as much power as he has, going for another fifty years? A hundred year rule?

Tracy was right, he _is_ a tyrant.

Not to mention I _have_ seen what Muggles are like. Hateful, pride filled, lazy, and dangerous to their own kind. Truth be told, if wizards acted like Muggles there would be a whole lot less of us. Not every Muggle carries around a knife or a gun. Every wizard has a wand though… Every child over the age of eleven even…

Voldemort went after a child on the basis of a prophecy he didn't know the full contents of… Just like in Greek Myths. Your son will kill you and marry your wife, so you throw him into the sea, causing the prophesy to become self fulfilling. If he hadn't come after me he wouldn't have been banished, I wouldn't have been marked, and either me _or_ Neville could still potentially fill the role of the One…

…Voldemort… Tracy… Daphne… Malfoy… Lestrange… Snape…

… Vernon… Petunia… Dudley… Dumbledore… Snape…

…Good… Evil… all the shades of grey

… Muggles… Wizards…

Hermione…. Ron… Ginny… Luna… Arthur, Fred, George, Dean, Susan, Seamus, Padma, Lavender…

I want to protect them. But from who? The Muggles? The Death Eaters? Remus himself said that deaths of those in the Order rose towards the end… when Voldemort decided to begin taking the field against select people. Deaths happened, but in general they didn't kill the wizards on purpose… they killed the Muggles who knew of the Magical World and the enemy soldiers, those who got in the way were taken out too.

Then what about incidents like the bridge being destroyed? A distraction maybe…? Then again such things were common in wars, distractions and innocent casualties…

'_the Death Eaters are _not_ allowed to loot and pillage and rape as they please….'_

'_more than a few Aurors and ministry cleanup workers are responsible…'_

'_Father abhors rape in any form…'_

'_never just taken for personal gain…'_

'_you, no matter __who__ wins this war, are the future of our people…'_

'_Freedom!'_

"Who planned the destruction of the Millennium Bridge? Who destroyed it?" I asked.

"Dead men." Was his reply, "Something like that is much too public, too well seen by the Muggles for us to risk targeting. It upsets our goals and declares us much too openly."

"And a neon sign made of mist is much better, I'm sure." I retorted, thinking once more.

"Idiot." Tracy announced, "The Dark Mark is a special spell, it can only be seen by magical beings."

Oh, I get it, "Like the Dementors, a Muggle or Squib could not see them but still feel them and be effected by them."

"Exactly." Voldemort said with a smile, "It is much too magical for them to see, like the Dementor or other magical creatures, like Phoenix's or House Elves."

Well, that's a rather amusing thought, Draco Malfoy is less magical than a House Elf.

"Dead men, huh...?" I asked once more…

…

…...

…

…..

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches.…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not.…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither shall live while the other survives.…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"

There was utter silence then as the last word slid off my tongue, the crackling of the fire the only thing I could hear. I didn't dare look at them, I looked into the orange and yellow flames instead.

I had made my choice. Perhaps it will be the right one… Maybe it will be the wrong one…

Idly I try to imagine myself in a white Death Eater mask… wait, I'm me and my body is full of Liquid Luck, of course I can make that look good. I can make a paper bag look good… No, _Tracy_ can make a paper bag look good. She wouldn't even need to be wearing it… actually I think I might like it if she wasn't wearing it… or anything else.

I knew I was just coping with thoughts like that, maybe the Felix Felicis knew I needed to be distracted in order to survive this… My conscience might have made me do something stupid before it had a chance to get used to the idea that I was changing sides in this war… then again maybe I won't need that long to get used to it? I hope so.

For nearly five minutes we all sat there, each of us doing different things. Voldemort was thinking over each and every word, I'm sure. Tracy was probably doing the same thing as Daphne, gawking at this internally… Or externally I guess, based on the wide eyed stare the black haired Slytherin was giving me from behind her blond friend. I was still idly picturing Tracy and now Daphne in various states off dress and undress… What about Hannah Abbot? A nice red head like her or Susan Bones is always good… or Ginny… Luna? Now that would be…

"Wow…" Tracy was the first to speak, shaking us all out our thoughts, making us all stare at the girl who was suddenly looking very self aware and small, "Um… That's… big… I guess then that father marked you with the scar then? And made you his equal."

This amused me, "A fifteen year old boy the equal to a Dark Lord who has five _decades_ of experience on me, not to mention how much more power, an army of followers who will die for him if necessary, and _some_ form of _immortality…? _I didn't know you had that much faith in me Trace!"

The girl blushed in anger, making me smirk at her, "Well when you put it like that…" she said with a glare, only to be waved down by her father.

"No, Mr. Potter… My daughter is correct. While I _may_ have more skill than you, power can be a relative term. For instance, I have the very rare _power_ to see wards, where as you do not, I am sure. Another fact is that I can put _much_ power into my spells, but I cannot compete with the feat that Peter Pettigrew claims he witnessed: You driving off a hundred Dementors with just one Patronus. The power that that would require is beyond comprehension. Follower's? I have heard that you started a group in defiance of the Ministry, much as I did after I had graduated. They all answered to you… You have the beginnings of a following as I have now. And as I said before… I am _not_ truly immortal. My soul will one day weaken and the bonds that hold it to this body shall fail me, less I take other precautions. It is why I chose to have children, to carry on my legacy for generations to come."

"Furthermore, Mr. Potter, you would seem to have some sort of power I do not even know of and most likely never will. I do wonder what if could be?"

"Well if you ask Dumbledore I'm supposed to give you a damn hug and hope you burst into flames." Seeing the looks on their faces almost made me laugh, though instead I settled on a small smile, in no mood for laughter, even despite the potion I had taken. "He seems to think that the power you know not… Is love."

"OH!" Tracy practically yelled, realization dawning on her face, "That's why you got so angry this morning, I told you how my father looked at me with love." Turning to her father she explained, "After we had… begun to talk, I mentioned meeting your for the first time… and the look you had given me. He slammed his fist into the wall and broke it."

"Left a nice bruise, would have match the shiner you almost gave me wonderfully!" I said in a chipper voice, then much more subdued, "But yes, that is why I got so angry… My own family is… less than perfect. And the fact that I was told this not an hour after Sirius' death… It was unbearable."

Turning my attention away from the girl I looked the Dark Lord in his crimson red eyes, "How does this work?" I asked, "I told Tracy before; I will _not_ compromise my morals. I will fight, as I already have been doing so, but I will not betray those I care for most… I'm not Wormtail. I don't even know _how_ I can do this, I'm certain Dumbledore will find me before long and then I won't be able to escape him. Once in school…"

The man smiled at me again, "You, Harry Potter, are a brave man to say such things to me. Many would not dare, believing I would curse anyone within an inch of their lives for such an offense. In truth I only did that once, to a man who had betrayed our location to the enemy. I read it in his mind and delivered punishment swiftly. He did not outlive the night I fear, which is good, as we were able to take none of our prisoners with us. It is… refreshing to hear, particularly since my return. My friends and compatriots have become distant and more servitor like, having forgotten _who_ I am and _what_ I stood for… You will not be marked. And you will not bare the traditional white and silver mask of the Death Eater's."

Blinking I looked at him in confusion, making him chuckle… not a pleasant sound, "Perhaps your Luck has changed how this night would have ended. If this night had turned out in my favor I originally was going to give you a mask and have you join the others in Hogwarts, unmarked, but I believe that I may have something better. You are to be my equal, yes? Then you will not be _any_ Death Eater… You will be a Dark Lord, the one to carry the war on their shoulders when I pass or should I fall."

Standing the man walked to one of the two doors in the room. One I had come in through so this one lead to who knows where.

"Come with me children, let us look into the relics of the past." He said beckoning Tracy, Daphne, and I to him. For a second I was stuck in place before joining them, one thought reaching the surface… How had I gone from Death Eater to Dark Lord so quickly?

I had seen museums before… they were nothing next to this. Four stories tall the room went, walls covered in thousands of books, the floor had various artifacts of ages gone set upon pedestals and stands. Swords and Knives and amulets and armors. Rings and coins and Grimoires and capes, cloaks, and robes of all kind. Some pristine, others covered in dried blood and dirt. One knife was make of obsidian, another metal, and another yet still of ice, believe it or not.

Beneath each object there were names and descriptions of all kinds. Madea's Bodkin, a red sword of a Japanese invader, the coins laid to rest on Hector's eyes when he died… so many things.

"Throughout the years I have been alive," the older man explained, walking us up to the fourth floor of the library/museum, "I have collected many artifacts, eagerly looking for those that had belonged to the founders, in vain as I mentioned. But some of the more intriguing ones I have found belonged to former Dark Lords. Though I do not have any of Grindlewalds effects, I have, as you see, many others. Most are not truly dark or evil in nature, though there are a few that are, and most are not even magical anymore, like those artifacts of the Founders."

"Truly, this puzzled me. Why would something that was only a hundred years old not work still, while something three thousand years old did? It took a while before I came to the conclusion that the Founders artifacts had been lost, as did many of these, but others had been kept by Ministry's and individuals, tested and used and maintained. Then it hit me, they had had magic used in and around them, helping them. I'm sure that if any of the Founders objects been kept _in_ the school, like the Sorting Hat, then they would still have been as powerful today as they day they were Crafted."

By this time we had reached the top floor, "One such discovery, by a member of the American Ministry of Magic that was sympathetic to our cause, originally caught my eye as it was a full set, still completely functional. I had the man gain the objects for me, paying a hefty fee for them, and then entrusted them to the care of one of my most loyal friends: The Davis family. I did not, at this time, have any estate fixed up into a suitable location for my various wares, the timing last time was always terrible, though with the year I had to plan things this time around… No matter. I originally only had them because they were a full set that was fully working. That though, changed."

Looking at me he smiled before pointing to one of the displays, a long glass topped case that was up against another display, a set of chest armor made of black and bronzed leather. In the case itself sat three more objects: a long knife, nearly a foot long, a tarnished back and gold mask, oddly similar to a Death Eaters mask, yet completely different, and a small figurine of three skulls sitting upon one another, each looking in a different direction, set with small rubies that seemed to catch the light and keep it, rather than reflect it.

But it was the name that really caught my interest.

Why wouldn't it?

I mean, the effects of a Dark Lord…

A Dark Lord by the name of Archibald Potter.

"Well fuck!" I practically yelled, getting a strange look from the older man, I'm sure.

"Well?" asked Daphne impatiently, her and Tracy having been held back by the man, "What is it?"

Voldemort answered instead, sounding entirely too smug, "They are known as The Arsenal of the Dark Lord Archibald Black Crafter… Better known in his own time as Archibald William Frederick Potter, a powerful politician and an even more talented inventor."

"The Black Crafter was a Potter?" Tracy asked, looking over at me in shock. I guess my ancestor was well known then, even if his last name was not.

"I take it Archibald Potter was well known?" I asked, getting a nod of the head from Tracy, who looked to Daphne to explain.

"Archibald Black Crafter was world renown as the Dark Lord during the Colonies Revolt against British rule. Generally speaking he isn't well known for being a Dark Lord in England because, while he was labeled so by the British, he was the first 'American' Dark Lord. Lost the war of course, was trying to keep the Colonies under the Empire. But one thing _did_ live on, his works as an enchanter."

"That's why he was called the Black Crafter? Because he could enchant objects?"

Daphne shook her head, "Nope, he was called that because of how he _revolutionized_ enchanting objects. He took the Dark Arts and used them to create incredibly powerful magical item, things that were of a level not previously seen in hundreds of years. His creations, Black Craft's, were so perfectly made, so incredibly unique and powerful, that many of the Pureblood families keep them as prized possessions. The Black's, in particular, had a rather large horde of the objects. Making objects in the same manner today is simply call Dark Crafting. Much easier and more powerful than regular enchantments, but nowhere _near_ the legendary levels of the Black Crafters works."

A light clapping shook the girl out of her lecture, making her go wide eyed in rather amusing way, if I do say so myself, "Very good my Death Eater, _very good_. I am glad to hear that Binn's has not destroyed magical history at Hogwarts completely."

"Thank you my lord." She said in a meek voice, painfully aware of the Dark Lord in the room.

Tracy though wasn't too satisfied, "She is too modest father," the blond girl announced, pushing Daphne before the elder Riddle, "Binn's doesn't teach wizarding history outside of a few witch burnings in third year. Daphne did all of her research outside of class."

"A True Historian then." The man announced, making the girl flush with embarrassment, "My daughter, let her be. As it is, my presence is the only one restraining her from hitting you."

He was probably right… so I took advantage of this fact and poked her, making her squeak and go wide eyed. "Hmm… I have never seen that particular shade of red before… Well except this once in potions." Daphne glared, Tracy laughed, and I felt a little better… I _really_ hope it was the potion making me do this at this point. "Now, why have you shown me this then? Because my ancestor was Dark Lord?"

"Partially." The man granted with a tilt of his head, "Though mostly because _this_ shall be your uniform, these shall be your weapons. Through you I shall bring the Black Crafter back from the dead, in a manner of speaking." I looked at him as if he was crazy. I must have, because the glare he gave me was strong, "You are to be my equal? Then you cannot be a normal Death Eater. What better way than to, like myself, take up the mantle of your forefather?"

My Luck, I tried to reason, wanted this to happen. But something didn't feel right about it. "What's the catch?" I asked, not in a bullshitting mood, "What aren't you telling me? Will I not be able to remove the mask? Or will the knife kill me if I use it to kill an innocent? What?"

"Very astute of you." The man said approvingly, "These are magical objects made by enchanting them with spells of the Dark Arts. Normally enchanting only uses regular spells, not the Dark Arts. Archibald Potter theorized that he could make an object that created the effects of a Dark spell without causing the normally adverse effect's of the Dark Art's on the wielder of the object. And he was correct. Using an object did not give the negative reactions one gets from casting a Dark spell. However, the object in question released an aura of dark magic, one that would corrupt anyone nearby as if they had been using the Dark Arts themselves, minus the effects that certain spells would cause."

"And what 'effects' are those?" I asked, genuinely not knowing, "I don't practice the Dark Arts and either Quirrell, Umbridge, or Lockhart was supposed to teach us to recognize Dark Magic I guess."

The man seemed a little surprised at my lack of knowledge, but other than that did explain for me, to my relief, "Generally speaking, it is mental in nature. Mood swings, insomnia sometimes times, nightmares other times, forgetfulness is common, though there are potions and even rituals to prevent of counteract this, dementia, depression, fits of vertigo or feelings of invincibility. Those can all happen, though the stronger the mind the less likely and less powerful these are. The longer one is around or using Dark magic the easier it becomes to forge on through… usually. In some cases the more they're used the worse the effects become. Take my darling Bellatrix for example: She has a strong mind but used the Dark Arts enough that rather than being tempered, her mind broke. Though in her case she grew up surrounded by Black Crafts in the Black Family home."

"That explains _so_ much." I said, looking at the objects curiously, wondering how they would affect me. It didn't sound _too_ bad, especially since the longer I was around them the better I was likely to be around them… hopefully "Sirius was far from sane, Bellatrix was off the wagon, and Tonks, Sirius' cousin was a little loonier than was normal for a witch or wizard. I guess she inherited it from her mother." Off to the side I saw Tracy's posture change at my comment, making look over at her… then to Voldemort who was looking down his fake nose at me.

"Tonks isn't your daughter too, is she?" I asked, really hoping not.

"No," the man answered, giving me a sigh of relief, "Though I _do_ have a child with Bellatrix as well, from before her mind broke." Oh, that's just as bad.

"Um… Sorry?" I asked more than said this, though the man just waved it off.

"You were not aware, though I would watch my tongue if I were you." He said before walking forwards and opening the display case. Behind his back I stuck out my tongue and tried to look at it, earning me a kick to the shins by Tracy _and_ Daphne.

"Did you know that this was the original mold for the mask's my Death Eater's wear?" he asked, pulling free the Black and Gold piece of art, "We wear ours with Silver and metallic white and the design along the brow is different from person to person. But this was the first… In a way, for the eldest members of our order, it will be a symbol of your station." With that he handed it to me, closing the case, "We do not have much time tonight to have you fully equipped, but I wish for you to try it on, let me see you bear my Mask Harry Potter."

And so, removing my glasses, I did. Luckily for me I didn't need the glasses when I wore the mask, it aided me automatically. It felt like a second skin, barely noticeable , save for when I tried to smile and my dimples couldn't move much.

"How does it look?" I asked, getting a shocked look from the two women, an amused one from the Dark Lord, something I will _never_ be used to, "Yes?"

"Your voice," Tracy managed, before stopping.

"It's… much older sounding, more sophisticated almost." She said, staring at me in awe, standing up straighter when I looked to her.

Questioningly I looked towards the Dark Lord before I realized he could not see my raised brow. "Well… My… Lord…?" I asked confused as to how I should address him.

"You may address me as sir when we are in the presence of others, though in this setting… either Voldemort or Sir. You and I are not close enough for you to call me by my given name. And what they hear is a mild voice changing charm layered with a _very_ powerful Voice Charm like I was using before, making everything you say seem so much… _more._ I wouldn't be able to tell who you are through the mask and the basic charm, and only a master Occlumens like Severus would be able to totally fight off the Voice Charm."

"We can't see your eyes either." Daphne announced, making me look towards her again, causing her to shutter.

"Why do they keep doing that sir?" I asked, looking at Tracy now, who was still staring at me a little awed.

"Hmm… Most likely there is a compulsion on the mask, for those who look upon it while it is being worn. Give me a second to lower my Occlumency, I am not used to willingly taking in a compulsion or threat to the mind." Closing his eyes the man visibly tensed, straining to keep his mind open and defenseless. "Fear." He announced. "Fear and Respect actually. A duel compulsion, truly remarkable. I'm sure if you spoke to them, rather than just stared they would respond, due to the Voice Charm… hmm, a deadly combination for an amateur Occlumens, Voice Charms and Compulsion's… How does it feel? Normal, any restraints?"

"Only when moving my face, but other than that nothing. I can see great, better than normal even, though that's because I have an outdated subscription for my glasses. I hear fine, see fine, _smell_ fine, and it doesn't feel like its weighing down my face at all."

"Remarkable…" the man said once more, "Now kneel, Harry Potter, and hear your mission."

Well, here was the moment of truth. Would I be right in my decision or would I be wrong and be forced to commit the unthinkable.

"Your mission is many in one, if truth is told. My resources in Hogwarts are many, but difficult to control. I can no longer trust Severus to do my bidding properly there, so _you_ shall take over in that facility." Did he just say what I think he said, "You shall lead my Death Eaters within the school, ensuring that they are ready, able, and willing to come forth and fight for our cause when they leave for good. No other in that school, save the teachers themselves, have as much experience as your do in true combat, so you will train them. Furthermore, as a confidant to Dumbledore and many other's of the opposition you will pass any information you come across to my child, she will have the means to relay it to me. Furthermore I expect you to do everything in your power to keep her save… Between you and Miss. Greengrass there are only two of you that know her true station in life and it will _stay_ that way, _do I make myself clear_?"

"Yes sir." I responded without a hint of hesitancy. Truth be told I was a little _more_ than scared at the look he gave me and the menacing tone of voice… huh.

"Now there is one other matter in which I believe you may be useful… In the previous year you started training a group known as… Dumbledore's Army…" It really _was_ a bad name for the group, especially now, "I wish you to continue this group" oh, that's not what I was expecting, "Use it to learn more about our enemies, and gather information on potential recruits. Treat them as you always have, but keep them even closer."

"Go now." He commanded, "The night has been long and even I need sleep. My daughter has ways of getting your effects into the school undetected, so you need not worry over that, and you shall need to gather as much information on the Order of the Phoenix to pass on when Hogwarts starts back up." Turning he beckoned for his daughter, who took his arm, "Miss. Greengrass shall see you out and portkeyed back to London. Until next time, my servant.

And with that, and the swish of his robes the Dark Lord Voldemort… My Master… was gone.

"Well… that could have gone worse!" I announced, feeling Voldemort's presence slowly disappear. It was like his very being counteracted the powers of the Felix Felicis and now that he was gone it all rushed back to me.

"You…" Daphne started, staring at my back, muttering angrily. Apparently something I had said or done to her master had angered her, "You… You…" At this point I turned around and stared at the girl once more, still wearing the mask. Instantly she cowered back, intimidated.

"Is there something you would like to say Daphne?" I asked, tilting my head curiously, stepping closer to her.

"No, I…" though that was all that she managed to get out.

Sighing I took the mask off. Truthfully it would be _very_ useful once I… Took. Control. Of the Death Eaters of Hogwarts. What a minute.

"Daphne?" I said, looking at her once more. She still looked hesitant, mostly at the object in my hands, "How many Death Eaters are there in Hogwarts?"

"Many." She answered, putting her hand out to take the mask away from me. "All of the Slytherin seventh and sixth year students, all save two girls in the fifth year, and three of the Fourth year Slytherin's have already taken vows to become Death Eaters as soon as possible… They will need to be brought into the fold sometime in the year."

"And outside Slytherin?" I asked, knowing that not all Death Eaters could be Slytherin.

She shrugged her shoulder's at that, "I only know of three myself, two Ravenclaw's, Carmichael and Edgecombe, and a Gryffindor, Cormac McLaggen. Haven't even _heard_ of a Hufflepuff one… save for Barty Crouch Jr.

"Right." I said, following her down and out of the library/ museum. "So when do you guys meet in the school and where?"

"Don't worry about it; you're the one that will decide. I'm actually a little surprised by that actually… Oh, how sweet it will be to see Malfoy at that first meeting." She said, smiling gently, "You _have_ to embarrass him somehow," grabbing on to my arm she looked up at me, fluttering her eyelashes, "just for me?"

Snorting I pushed her off gently.

"What was it like?" I asked her finally, as we reached the study, finding it empty.

"I'm gunna need a little more information than that to give you an answer." She responded.

"The Dark Mark, what was it like having it put on you?" I asked again, generously curious, knowing that once I was away from Hogwarts I would be branded myself most likely.

For a second she was quiet, thinking back to it, clutching her arm… "You really don't want to know Potter… Just consider yourself lucky. Your never the same after you get it…"

"Why does he use it then?" I asked, "If it's so terrible then-"

"It is a necessary evil." She interrupted, "They tried it with external trackers and means of communication but they all failed spectacularly." And with that walked out of the room.

"I'm sorry." I said as I rushed to keep up with her long strides. "Whatever it was that I said, I'm sorry." She just kept quiet, walking even faster, making me jog in order to keep pace, "Is it because I mentioned the Dark Mark? Or something else?"

Reaching the foyer where we had entered originally she pulled a small object from her pocket and pushed it at me, "No." she said, followed by "Oblivion!"

And like that the mansion in Little Hangleton disappeared into a blur of lights and magic.

* * *

Thank you to all of those who reviewed and might I remind you that just because I got this chapter out so fast does not mean I will get all of them out this fast. Second I would like to comment that the Death Eaters Masks are from the book, not the movies. But in general they are white and silver. The one that Harry will be using is set as my avatar right now, if you would like to see what it looks like. Lastly if anyone has a reasonable question the feel free to ask


	3. Chapter 3

Ok... so I WAS going to make this longer, but I realized that I had the perfect spot to end the chapter on... So enjoy!

* * *

I'll let you in on a few little secret… I love flying, but I _hate_ heights.

Particularly when I don't have a broom. With a broom their no problem. Hell, if I have a broom within fifty feet of me it isn't a problem.

You see, in first year, we learn this neat little trick, making our brooms rise by themselves. But what you learn, not longer after, is that all high end brooms, like Firebolt's and the Nimbus 2001's, expand upon it as part of a safety feature built in to protect a person falling from their brooms when flying non-competitively. Simply calling for my Firebolt will send it to my hands, though it is illegal to do in a Quidditch match.

Second… well I guess the whole being able to call my broom thing would be second.

Thirdly: I. Hate. Portkey's.

My problem comes in the landing, something Daphne or Tracy did _not_ know, as they set the Portkey back to take me to the roof of the Hotel building… Where I promptly fell over…

And fell off the building…

At least when you Floo you knew there wouldn't be a twenty-eight story drop for you on the other side.

I must have been particularly lucky not to fall to my death right then and there, but someone had been cleaning the windows and left the swing stage near the top of the building, letting me _not_ die an agonizing and painful death.

"Felix, I'm naming my first born after you!" I announced, kissing the dirty metal of the elevator, "Felix for a boy, Felicis for a girl."

Jumping up I soon found myself on the roof once more, grabbing my pack and was soon taking the stairs down, not wanting to wait for the elevator.

A little wandering around London and I was able to figure out exactly where I was and decided to take a cab rather than the Knight Bus… Something about magical travel at the moment… Yeah.

The ride to Charing Cross was rather strange, if truth is told.

I had just dedicated my life to a man who has, is willing to still, and _will_ kill Muggles… I'm sure I will be expected to do the same even. And as these thoughts crossed my mind I couldn't help but note how beautiful Muggle London looked at night. A hypocrisy that was not lost on me, I assure you.

Do I have it in me to kill? Wizard's? Muggles? _Anyone?_

I couldn't even cast the torture curse on the woman who had killed Sirius, and that was when I was angry beyond all belief. I don't think living would be a problem… But living with myself…? Luckily for me I wouldn't have to test myself like that for some time. I wouldn't be killing people in Hogwarts.

At least, not anymore than I already have, I'm sure. Besides, Quirrell was a dead man as it was… Lockhart didn't technically die, even if he _is_ brain dead and I _was_ willing to push him down a dark foreboding hole that I didn't know would end in a slide. The basilisk wasn't human, I didn't kill Barty Crouch, and I'm _sure_ those Centaurs wouldn't have killed Umbridge if Hagrid hadn't gone to save her… _RIGHT_, like I really believe that.

Either way, all I would be doing is training and information gathering, maybe a little recruiting on the side. Nothing _evil_, not even anything remotely dark when you get right down to it… Now if only I could convince myself of that.

"What's wrong son?" the taxi driver asked, looking up at me from the rearview mirror, "Look like you're about to go to war."

I gave a weak smile at that, "Shipping off September first." I announced, "I'm not overly excited about it either. Going to war that is."

I got a strange look from the man at that, "Son, we ain't got no war's right now, t'was just a turn of speech, if you know what I mean."

"Right, just nervous sir." I said, getting a nod.

"So why'd you sigh up then?" he asked, "Seems to me that if you don't want to then you shouldn't have to."

"Well someone's gotta do it." I answered, "What about protecting the ones you care about?" the man gave a nod and there was an awkward silence for a while, more so for me than him I'm sure. "Sir? What if… What if you wanna protect people on _both_ sides of the war?" I asked, "Hypothetically speaking, that is, if there was a war?"

The man was quiet for a little while. I didn't know if he had heard me or was going to answer at all when he spoke, "Hypothetically speaking I would fight all the harder." He said, "The sooner the war was over the sooner everyone would be safe. And while I fight I would do everything in my power to ensure that those I care about the most would be sheltered from the worst of it all. When it comes down to it, it depends on whether what your fighting for is worth going nose to nose with the enemy or even taking a human life. War changes people in ways you can never understand, even _after_ you've fought. Just try not to lose yourself to the madness and be there for those you're fighting for after it's all said and done. Now that will be twenty four pounds."

Looking up I realized we were at our destination; the man had even managed to get remarkably close to the Cauldron itself. Handing him the money with a large tip included I got out.

"Tell Tom that old Emrys says hello, will you lad, and remember what I said about war: don't lose yourself and when it's done it will all be worth it, I'm sure, every last sacrifice." And with that he took off into the early morning.

"Tom…? But then he knew?" I asked aloud, more confused than before. A good night's sleep would do me well, I'm sure.

I was half tempted to go to Knockturn Alley tonight, rather than staying at the Cauldron, but decided I really didn't want to have to traipse through Diagon and then Knockturn until I found a half decent room for the night. Besides, I was supposed to keep up appearances and being in Knockturn Alley wasn't the best image to portray to the Order and any others that might find me there. Disappointing, yes, practical, unfortunately.

In all honesty I didn't know how I would pull off going back to the Order, what with Dung having seen me leave. For all I knew they had been looking for me since… Wow, I guess it's been two days already. Still, two days searching and then I just magically show up? Even in the wizarding world that wouldn't be normal. Oh well, I had a plan, a weak one, but a plan none-the-less.

Getting a room and passing on the Cabbies message took all of five minutes, earning me a very strange smile from the old barkeep, promptly after which I forgot about it and threw myself onto the bed, intent on sleeping… I wonder if Liquid Luck works when you sleep too? A perfect day… a perfect night's sleep? Not sure, I don't remember dreaming at all.

In the morning… or afternoon, depending on how you looked at it, I woke up more rested than I had all summer, not that it was saying much. I had gone nearly the first week on three whole hours of sleep, so it was no surprise really that on the first night I get away from the Dursly's and actually sleep it was a good one.

Internally I was debating with myself once more, nothing big this time, more so on whether I should eat first and then make Floo calls or Floo first and then try to get a meal. In the end the thought of Weasley home style cooking won out, making my first Floo call of the day, and last as it was, to the Burrow.

Now, I don't know if you know it or not, but making a Floo call, or fire call, is _really_ disturbing. I don't know if it just projects the picture of your head into another fire, or if it really sends your head there, separated from your body for a short time… I really don't _want_ to know, but I've opened my eyes while going through the Floo and it's like a whole other world between fireplaces: Big, fiery, and green…

Either way, I stuck my head into the green flames and soon found myself looking out of the main fireplace in the Burrow. Off in other rooms I could hear the occasional clunk of things being dropped or the yell of mother Weasley to one of her children.

"Hello?" I asked aloud, "_Hello!"_

Arthur Weasley scared me silly when he suddenly appeared in my sight, coming from off to the side where I couldn't see him.

"Oh! Harry?" he said, looking at me with a smile and wide eyes, "I wasn't expecting you!"

Putting on a sheepish smile I muttered out an apology, "I know everyone must have been worried sir, but I couldn't stand it there anymore, no communication, no way of contacting the Order, and in the end when Vernon kicked me out…" I trailed off here, confused at his confused look. "Sir?"

"You haven't been at Privet Drive?" he asked, "But I was just keeping watch at your house this morning!"

Oh… Well this was different, "Surely Dung told you all that I left, I saw him on my way out, behind the bush's taking a nap…" Ok, so I left out the part about his invisibility cloak, sue me.

The man just shook his head, "Dung doesn't have another watch for two days, he usually takes off a little early as it is anyway, and starts gathering information about the goings-on's of the criminals in Knockturn Alley."

Holding my irritation in check, I reassured myself that if there was a place to go after committing a crime it would be the Alley… They wouldn't turn a fellow in to the Ministry and it was large enough for a person or group of people to get themselves lost in.

"What about 'Mad-Eye?'" I asked, knowing that the ex-Auror would have known I wasn't there thirty seconds after arriving on the scene.

"He doesn't keep watches on you, would rather go out on combat missions and seems to think that he's earned the right to refuse guard duty… nobody's decided to challenge him on it."

"And nobody else even _knew_ I wasn't at home?" wow… that was rather ineffective of them. How did Dumbledore recruit his people anyway?

"No…" he said frowning, "Dung would have said something if he was awake, I'm sure. And you really should have known better Harry."

The look he gave me was almost as bad as Voldemort's, but in a different way. Voldemort looked at you and let you know that failure would not be tolerated. Arthur Weasley's look spoke volumes of disappointment in me and my choice to leave the safety of Privet Drive.

"I'm sorry sir… My uncle and I got into a fight and he kicked me out." I answered, which was completely and utterly true.

"Still, you should have contacted us sooner, Dung had his watch two days ago."

"I needed some time to think and be alone." Partially true, though I wasn't alone for most of it.

Mr. Weasley just nodded and invited me through the fire, which I did so willingly. Walking out I realized that the room, which had once been open, was now a rather large office with a long conference table to one side. Clearly they had used liberal amounts of expansion charms on the room, as I _knew_ the Burrow was barely the size of the room around.

"Order meeting's?" I asked, getting a nod to the affirmative, "How have things been going?" I asked, "What's He up to? What's the Order been doing? Who have we recruited? What's Dumbledore doing?"

It all must have seemed so innocent to Mr. Weasly, I realized. I had done something similar when I had first arrived at Headquarters last summer.

I watched as the balding redheads features softened, looking at me with pity and a small bit of sorrow… I wonder if he was remembering what I had done last year as well… Only this time I didn't have Sirius to let me in on even a little.

Looking over at a clock, a normal one, I could see him pause in thought before motioning for me to take a seat.

"The prospect is rather grim my boy. But, luckily for us, all is not lost yet. Only one of the Death Eaters from the Ministry fiasco escaped with You-Know-Who, meaning that: of the thirteen which you five fought ten have been detained in Azkaban."

"Ten? I know Bellatrix escaped, but what happened to the other two?" the pained look on his face was all I needed to figure it out. "We killed them?" I asked, getting a nod to the affirmative, "Was it the Order? Or did…"

"Harry, you don't need to worry about it.." he said. I truthfully didn't want to know… but there is a difference between want and need.

"Please Mr. Weasley, I… Was it the Order?" I asked once more, getting a shake of the head.

I could see the pain on the mains face as he forced himself to speak, "When the Order arrived we only fought in the Death Chamber and the hallways leading up to the Atrium. The two men were found in other parts of the Department. One in the Hall of Prophecies, the other in the Brain room…"

Nodding my head I took a deep breath, "Thank you sir… Thank you. If we could continue then?" the man just gave me a weak smile on we kept talking. I would be thinking about it later I have no doubt.

'_Just don't lose yourself.'_ A voice whispered in my ear as I listened to the man talk about the different things that have been happening.

The Order was currently just gathering information and sending out groups to make contact with the different creatures. The Giants hadn't taken well to Hagrid last year, the Centaurs wished to stay neutral, the same with the Merefolk. Apparently Fleur had joined the Order, as she was currently trying to get the aid of the Veela's, Bill the Goblin's, and Remus the Werewolves still.

Other members were out trying to ward different safe houses and assets that the Order needed safe. I was able to get a few locations out of Arthur, though he didn't know them all. Ms. Figg, of all people, was out gathering donation's for the cause and was staying at one of the safe houses keeping track of the Orders spending and income.

In general it was basic stuff, along those lines, though one part in particular I needed to know, "What's being done about possible Death Eaters in Hogwarts?"

"Nothing." The man responded, much to my shock, "Well, not much anyway. If a student or member of the faculty is caught baring the Dark Mark they will be arrested and taken into Auror custody, but other than that nothing more really. A few Auror's, including Tonks, will be switching in and out of the school to help the teachers and Prefects with patrols and to take any students into custody that are marked, but other than that, nothing. No Order members, no more than two Auror's on the school grounds at any one time, and no Ministry officials on the grounds without the permission of the Board of Governors and at least three of the teachers or the Headmaster's permission."

In truth I thought it was too good to be true. "Why would Dumbledore leave the school so exposed?" I wondered aloud, getting a snort from the older man.

"Dumbledore isn't the one who came up with the idea. Fudge, as his last act in the Ministers office sent out two final Educational Decree's. The first the rescinded the ones given out by Delores, the second to put in place the new order. In truth the man hurt us more than helped, though it was the thought that counted I guess, wanting to stop another Umbridge from coming to Hogwarts. But with things as they are we can only count on a few select members of the Order to be able to travel to Hogwarts legally, for most of whom it would be an inconvenience to do."

Stupidly I blinked at the man, "Fudge is out of office?" I hadn't seen an issue of the Prophet in a week.

Apparently I had missed a thing or two. Fudge was out and Rufus Scrimgeour was the new Minister for Magic, a lion of a man according to Mr. Weasley. Not only that but Dumbledore was finally given the last of his positions back in addition to a new one as a member of the Auror Training Corps. More power, just what he needed. He could control what Auror's learned and who was welcomed into the training, even having a number of teachers under his command; official Auror's who didn't want to retire but were done with duty on the front lines. Theoretically speaking Dumbledore _could_ have a person arrested by the Aurors and he was the only ones they would answer to, other than Amelia Bones as the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and Pius Thicknesse as the Head Auror, both of whom he had some sort of authority over thanks in whole to his other positions.

Soon I was on my way out of the office, wondering whether I dared to write any of the information I gathered down. Knowing _me_ I would forget something vital and knowing my luck I would lose the parchment… Catch 22.

"HARRY!" was all the warning I got before a brown blur slammed into my side, sending me to the floor. "What are you doing here?"

"Hermione? I'm glad to see you too, but why are _you_ here?" I asked, feeling myself getting angry… I had been a closer friend to the family and yet she was the one to be let over early in the summer…

The girl answered, helping me up from the floor, "I just got here a couple of days ago. Dumbledore told Ron and I that he would be bringing you here next week and that you had requested a little time away from the Wizarding World, meaning you would be away with no owl. He had me taking care of Hedwig for you too by the way, she upstairs in mine and Ginny's room."

Instantly I began to chant to myself, wondering internally if Hermione actually believed everything that Dumbledore had told her. She _knew_ how mad I had been last year when I hadn't gotten any _real_ mail from either her of Ron, she should know better, especially with how much the two of them knew of my Aunt and Uncle.

"I see… Well, thank you for respecting my wishes, though I had thought after a week it would have been enough. You could have mailed me anytime though, either of you." I was in control, my mind was clear, and I wanted to start hitting things… things that started with the letter D. Hermione was just doing what she thought was best, I reminded myself. After last year I had assumed she would have been a little more liberal in regards to taking what authority figures said with a grain of salt, but apparently it had been a bit much to ask.

"Well, I'm here now. Dumbledore doesn't know I'm here yet, I assume, as I was kicked out of my house two days ago and Mr. Weasley wasn't even aware of my disappearance until I showed up here just a little while ago."

"Oh, I'm so sorry Harry… What happened?" she asked, pulling me towards the stairwell, leaving me to look into the kitchen longingly as we passed it.

"Oh, they wanted me out of the house so they could remodel but I had no way of contacting the Order, what with Ms. Figg having moved and my minders being invisible. I said as much, they remarked about not having wanted me, I returned that I didn't want to be there, he threatened to kill any wizard's he found in or around Privet Drive… So I left, caught a ride out to London and ended up staying at the Leaky Cauldron." While technically true I may have left out a few minor details…

Pulling me still I was guided up the stairs, nearly to Ron's room on the top floor before the girl noticed my baggage, or therefore lacking of, "Where's your trunk Harry?" the girl asked, "You can't have more than a few changes of clothes in that pack, what about your school books? How are you going to do the reading for classes that we're taking in September?"

For a second I just stopped and stared at her.

Surely she didn't think I would carry _books_ around with me when my uncle had threatened my life and I couldn't use magic.

"Hermione, I left in a hurry, I couldn't just carry everything with me. Not only would it have killed me to carry everything but I wouldn't have gotten very far either. Besides, books can be replaced easily enough, not that I know what classes I'll be in this year."

"Fine!" she huffed, my reasoning probably wasn't up to her standards, not that it ever was. "Come on, we can drop that upstairs. Ron is out in back de-gnoming the garden while Ginny is taking care of the Orchard. Mrs. Weasley's had me dusting. I'll see if she can find something for you as well."

Geez, thanks Hermione. Just ran away from home under the threat of death and all you can think is where my books are and how to put me to work.

"Actually I was wondering about getting something to eat." I mentioned on the second floor while we were on our way back down.

"I'm afraid Mr. Potter, that you will need to wait until after our meeting." Came the voice from the bottom floor, one I had hoped I wouldn't have to hear for at least a while longer. "Miss. Granger, if you would be so kind as to let me borrow your friend, I shall return him to you shortly."

And there, at the bottom of the stairs stood Albus Dumbledore. I really just couldn't catch a break.

Walking down the stairs I turned to the older man, putting on a smile, "Certainly sir. I am _so_ glad I was able to spend some time away from the Wizarding World, though I was forced to make a sudden re-entry. _My apologies!_"

And the next thing I knew I was getting a smack to the back of the head from a certain bushy haired witch, "Sarcasm doesn't suit you Harry. The Headmaster is a very busy man, you should show him some more respect."

"Ah, no need to be so harsh Miss. Granger." The old man said gently, "Though I admit, I was on my way out when Arthur caught me. A small errand I felt needed to be attended to. But more of that later I say, why don't we speak in the kitchen? Perhaps I can whip us up a bite to eat while we speak; I haven't practiced my cooking charms in _some_ time. A refresher would be nice, eh?"

Smiling I nodded, walking into the large kitchen that the Weasley's used to cook for a small army of redheads. Leaning against the countertop I idly watched the much older man, chanting in my head.

His wand waved back and forth, clearly setting some sort of silencing charm. His milky white hands moving gracefully in a complex pattern, most likely trying to show off and impress me at his skill with the ancient piece of elder wood in his hand. I wondered what kind of conversation this would be?

A fierce yelling match like I had wished for just weeks before? An intelligent conversation like I had just had early this morning? Or maybe some sagacious advice given unto the student?

"I must first apologize to you once again Harry." The man started, putting his wand away, "I know that you wished to speak with your friends this summer, but owl mail is no longer a safe means of communication. I could not risk any information, which I am sure you would have requested, being intercepted. I hope you can forgive me…"

I gave a bittersweet smile at the man, "I wasn't aware that my subscription to the Daily Prophet contained secret information." Before he could counter I waved him off, "It doesn't matter anymore though, now that I'm here. I'm sure you're wondering _why_, though I'm rather shocked that Dung didn't report anything to you, my uncle and I were yelling rather loudly. I left two days ago, staying in Diagon Alley to allow myself some time to cool down."

Seeing him nod I couldn't help but notice his disappointed look, "Harry, the Order is here for your protection… You heard the prophecy, we cann_ot_ afford to lose you."

"And _I_, cannot possibly fight a war with a blindfold on. But you seemed to find it necessary for me to do so." I announced, "What was so wrong with me _reading the paper_? Or the Order passing on letters for me? Or having my owl with me in case, like what happened, I needed to contact the Order to come and get me. You give me one course of action and expect me not to take it? I had no choice but to leave, particularly with Ms. Figg being removed. At least with her there I could have had easy access to the Floo in case of an emergency, but I didn't even have that."

"You always have a choice Harry." The man responded in kind, "And while I have been less than forthcoming with information in the past that will change this year." This perked me up a bit, making the man chuckle at me. I only just caught it, that he had pulled just the right string to make me jump for him, offering me something that he knew I wanted but had few other ways of getting a hold of: Information.

"I intend to have special lesson's with you, just the two of us, where I shall give you what will be needed to end this war once and for all. I do wish to make up for my mistakes in the past, and I will endeavor to do so from now on. If you have any questions then please feel free to ask and I will try to answer to the best of my ability."

For a second I thought it was too good to be true. If I kept on the path I was set to right now I could practically hand Dumbledore's plans over to Voldemort on a silver platter. But then I remembered the only other time I was offered such an opportunity to question the old man; first year, right after I had saved the Philosophers Stone. I had asked him why Voldemort had come after me as a baby and he had refused to answer…

"Ok… You want me to trust you… Then I expect you to show that I _can_ trust you, not like my first year when you had the chance and refused to tell me the Prophecy."

"Harry, my boy-" the man started, but I cut him off.

"No, I know what you _claim_ you were doing; trying to let me have a childhood… But I am _not_ a child anymore and you _have_ given me the Prophecy, if ever I did have a childhood it is gone now. So, will you answer me fully, completely, and without playing any games with me?" I ended this with my arms crossed over my chest, staring at the man over the top of my glasses. I'm sure it looked intimidating, not that I could see anything other than a brightly colored blob of white, red, and blue stars where he stood.

Eventually the man sighed and nodded his head at me, "Very well Harry," he announced, making me smirk, "though I am sorry that it had to come to this to make you trust me. Ask away and I shall answer."

So I asked the first thing that popped into my mind, "Where were you off to when Arthur caught you?"

"That's Mr. Weasley, Harry." The elderly man admonished before answering, "I was on my way to Little Hangleton to look into the home of one of Voldemort's parents."

My heart stopped at hearing this, I was sure. "Riddle Manor?" I asked, getting a sharp look from the old man. Internally I cursed myself, wondering if it was too late to drink the last mouthful of Felix Felicis before remembering it was in my bag. Quickly I thought, coming to the conclusion that, for many things, my trip to the graveyard in Little Hangleton after the Third task could answer many questions, "I was there, when I was taken by the Portkey last year. Voldemort had said it was his father's home, and in the distance I could see a large manor house. I assumed you meant there."

"No," the man said, excepting my answer apparently, much to my relief, "I was referring to his mother: Merope Gaunt. Truth be told she lived in a home as different from a manor as the Burrow is to Hogwarts. Nothing more than a shack. But it is here that I believe I shall find an object of _great_ importance to our efforts."

A small feeling of dread pooled in my stomach. I had a feeling I knew what kind of object Dumbledore was referring to… an object like that of the Diary in my second year… and the other objects the Dark Lord mentioned.

"What do you think you'll find there?" I asked, trying to sound curious, though I already knew, or at the least suspected.

The man's eyes twinkled, no doubt planning something. Internally I could feel something… a pressure on my mind, and I broke contact with his eyes. I was grateful that Dumbledore wasn't as strong a Legilimens as the Dark Lord, as I realized that I had felt his mind trying to break into my own.

"Ah, I had planned on covering this in your lesson's…" he started, getting a glare in response, "Though I guess I did promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing _but_ the truth. The object I believe I will find is known as a Horcrux, the darkest of the Dark Arts available to mortal wizard. A man or woman literally rips their souls apart and places a piece of it within another object in an attempt at immortality."

I did not have to fake the shiver that I had at the thought of such a thing. Though subconsciously I knew beforehand that there was no other way Voldemort could have placed a piece of himself within another object without it being his soul… But to hear it out loud was different…

"I can't see him placing it there." I said after thinking about it for a second, making to old man to look up at me in surprise. "It's not grand enough." I explained, "When I saw the Dark Lord return… It was all about pomp and showing himself to be great, that he was something beyond human. He called them all to him, questioned them, blamed them for not looking for him, and then rewarded Wormtail for being the one to succeed where they had failed. Even the way he gave Pettigrew his arm back was him showing off. A fully functional arm made of silver? It was the most difficult and most valuable thing a wizard could conjure without a Philosophers Stone, him showing that he could do what they could not with barely an effort… He wouldn't place something that is, in essence, himself, anywhere so normal or plain."

It was all true… for the most part. That's how he greeted the Death Eaters, even _why_ he greeted his followers as such, to show them that he was still just as powerful as before he died. But I could easily seeing him place an object of such importance in a small shack, provided it is where his family had once resided. It was someplace connected to him, part of who he was. He could care less about pomp and how grand something was, as long as it was useful or meaningful to himself. Now I only hoped Dumbledore believed otherwise.

At first I didn't think he would… But then his brow furrowed, clearly in deep concentration. Soon after that he was pacing, muttering to himself and looking off out the window at the horizon.

"Harry, my boy, I'm afraid I am going to need to cut our meeting a little short." He said, turning to me with a smile, "Though I must thank you for your commentary, it may very well save me quite a bit of time in my search for the other Horcrux's. I shall call upon you sometime after you return to school." And with that he began to walk for the door.

"Sir." I called out, suddenly inspired… "About that bite to eat…." With a small smile the man pulled his wand back out, waving it once and a platter appeared, a half a dozen sandwiches soon making themselves on it. Smiling a genuine smile I grabbed one, taking a big bite of corned beef, mayo, and bread.

The man stopped once more in the doorway of the kitchen, not even turning back to me as he spoke, "Oh, and Harry… I believe it would be prudent for you start your Occlumency training under Professor Snape again… I checked earlier and your mental protections seemed weaker than they were during the end of the school year." And with that was gone, leaving me with a meal that tasted like ashes.

My Occlumency training?

No… they couldn't have… even he wouldn't have…

Yes… they could have, they did… I had just been told the day before that I had only _started_ to perform Occlumency, even if it was at an amateurish level. I had just now detected an Legilimens for the first time not five minutes before…

Snape and Dumbledore had been sabotaging my attempts to learn Occlumency. I saw it now, why I had never managed to learn it right before. Lately I had been chanting to myself, calming myself, reeling in my emotions. And it worked more effectively than training with Snape ever did.

But then, Snape hadn't had me doing that, only expecting me to clear my mind as if I knew how to already and attacking… bringing up memories that would make my emotions even more unstable. Dumbledore couldn't have done it himself, as he needed me to trust him… But he didn't mind if I hated Snape.

"Why though?" I wondered aloud. If he wanted me to defeat the Dark Lord then the training would need to be done right… And he certainly didn't want the Dark Lord to defeat me… Then he would be unbeatable, the power of prophecy at his back… whatever that meant.

Whatever it may be I decided not to think on it yet… Though I should start writing things down… a journal maybe… HA! Maybe it would end up a journal like Tom Riddle's!

Ok… so that thought scared me more than I'd like to admit…

Time at the Weasley household was… different.

It was like we were stuck in slow motion here, while the rest of the world was moving at full speed towards the apocalypse. Mr. Weasley was the only one who got a subscription to the Prophet, and we mere children were not allowed to read it, not even Hermione. No, instead we got the Quibbler… it had puzzles… and almost _nothing_ of use.

I say almost because occasionally I would find a small bit of reality in there: How to pronounce and use the Patronus when faced with Lyrical-Lynch's, the use of fire against an Inferius hidden among the belief that Rufus Scrimgeour was one of the walking dead… It also claimed that the Minister was a Vampire though and then encouraged the readers to send the Minister garlic bread, as it would weaken him.

But beside the news I was there with his friends.

Friends that I was having a hard time connecting with… well, all save Ron.

Ron and me were the same as we always had been, something that came as a rather large relief to me, as both Ginny and Hermione had been acting different.

Ginny was the more noticeable of the two, surprisingly. I really don't know her as well as Hermione, but at times I could tell something was off with the girl. It wasn't the crush that she had once held on me, of that I was sure, but she would be looking at me at the oddest times, looking at me with questioning eyes. I didn't realize it until later in the summer that I realized the looks happened for the first time when I told her and the rest what had happened with my family…

Hermione, as I mentioned, was harder to read, but at the same time just as different. My bushy haired friend had always been rather… motherly. A friend, no doubt, I even considered asking her out once, but she seemed much more… pushy, lately.

I didn't catch it at first, as she had always been like that, but Ron mentioned how much she seemed to try and but in on the two of us when we were just handing or playing chess, something she never did. The mere thought that we would do something like that, when we could be studying, had always been an anathema to her. But suddenly there she was; left, right, and center. When we were doing our chores, playing, resting, eating, before we went to sleep, and almost as soon as we woke up.

Eventually I started paying attention to her out of the corner of my eye… She would read… But only turn the page occasionally.

To you or someone else who doesn't know her it would seem stupid. But to me, and Ron as well, I suspected, it was a sign that something was wrong.

Let me tell you something about Hermione: she's a genius. No, not the whole, "Wow, she's really smart, that's so cool!" genius. Those berks just learn things so they can show off.

When I say Hermione is a genius I mean she has a one-ninety-five I.Q. She had been in Year Ten classes when we received our Hogwarts Letters and was poised to skip another grade since she was still the head of her class. There was plenty she didn't know, but the fact that she had a photographic memory seemed to help her keep up and advance farther than anyone else. The only reason she wasn't doing nearly as well in Hogwarts as she was in her other schools was because she it was an entirely different world and that magic was more practical than theoretical… Actually, I believe that's why she took Ancient Runes and Arithmancy; they were more theoretical than practical in their execution, not that she didn't know more spells as a first year than I did as a third year. Even then though, pronouncing Latin was easier for her than for some of the new teachers and her essay's were so full of information that she had actually had teachers mark _down_ because she was too thorough and included too many muggle references… Her blow ups over these instances were hilarious to watch.

So Hermione reading and turning a page once every five minutes? Normal for you and me, maybe, normal for Hermione, not a chance.

Then there was the diary…

Ok, I'll be the first to admit that I have had a bad run when it comes to journals and diaries. Not counting the whole, T.M. Riddle thing, I've had other bad experiences. Once, back when I was attending Muggle School's still, Dudley stole a diary belonging to a teacher and after reading it put it with my books, getting me detention for a month for stealing and invasion of privacy.

Another time I had tried keeping a journal myself, ending up with Vernon and Petunia getting a hold of it. I hadn't been very flattering, if completely honest, about my opinions of my aunt, uncle, and cousin, leading to a severe punishment, involving little food and water while being locked in my cupboard for every minute of every day I wasn't at school or cleaning.

But this time Hermione was keeping diary. It wasn't a day planner, I had seen her already setting her new one up for the year. It wasn't any kind of private project, as she had willingly told us about the different projects she wanted to do but couldn't because of it being our first year of NEWT level classes.

Eventually Ron caught a glimpse in it before Hermione knew he was there… What was written in it brought my worry up a few notches.

"_There's not much more to report…"_

"I think Hermione's spying on us…" Ron said that night after we had shooed her out and checked for her in the hall.

"Me." I corrected, rather disturbed by the thought of the girl watching me, "She is spying on for Dumbledore."

He just nodded his head, "We all have secrets…" he said quietly, sometime later, "But spying on your friends? I just couldn't imagine myself doing the same."

It made sense too. She had such a strong need for and be belief in authority figures that at the smallest provocation she would take up the cause, no matter what my say in the matter was. She seemed to think that she knew what Ron and I needed better than we did… That was going to need to change. I don't think I need to mention the risk she posed to me with my new… activities during the year.

Immediately my thoughts turned to the new trunk I had gotten. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone to Diagon Alley and bought me new supplies to replace the ones I had left behind, though we would still need to make a second trip once our OWL's arrived. I needed to protect my belongings from both the girl and anyone else.

If my invisibility cloaks, plural thanks to you Dung, were stolen it would make things rather difficult for me. Difficult, but not impossible. It was one of the other object in the trunk that worried me: the Marauders' Map. It had fallen into enemy hands once before, much to my shame, and I wouldn't let it happen again. I knew that in the coming year it would be even more invaluable than it already had been, a key point to my success as the head Death Eater in Hogwarts.

So for the remained or the summer I set myself a few goals, each just as important in their own ways.

First and foremost was the protection of the Map and cloaks, a difficult but not impossible proposal.

I started off simple, asking Mr. Weasley in private about things that could be done, getting his help with setting up a Muggle method of concealing objects, a fake bottom. He was more than happy to help when I explained to him that I wanted to protect the few objects of great importance I had left, like my father's Cloak. Then I moved onto the twin's for some help protecting the false bottom. They loved helping me set up the booby traps and I'm more than certain that the joke shop they were going to open up in August, Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, would have a line of traps to add to its repertoire.

My second goal was less important to me personally, though not by much: Collecting information.

I decided to write down what was needed, a rather impersonal journal… More of a logbook really with how it read. The names of Order Members along with any information I could get on them, dates of meetings, any information I could finagle out of the different members on what they talked about in the meetings, even if I didn't get the details, and the names of any Death Eaters known to the Order, something that was a touch easier to get a hold of. It would all have its use, I was sure.

Lastly, and while not _as_ overly important to my new cause… I. Want. That. Diary.

I knew Granger was spying on me. More than once I heard her outside of our bedroom and I think she tried to sneak in once or twice, after something of mine or Ron's perhaps? Placing something among them maybe… The possibilities were endless.

It was the end of my second week at Chateau Weasley when our OWL Scores arrived.

We were all sitting around the kitchen table eating breakfast when they troop of owls flew into the dining room, swooping down to their respective recipient. Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and myself.

"Oh!" Molly squealed, running over to Ron. "Open it! I wanna see how good you did!" My red haired friend just shot me a pleading look, to which I winced sympathetically. Both of us knew Ron wasn't on the fast track to become the next Minister for Magic… In fact he would be lucky to even get a job at the Ministry as an Auror without some sort of special program in place or Divine Intervention… Divine intervention was the more likely of the two in my opinion.

Slowly I watched the boy open the thick envelope and slide out the parchment within… "I GOT SEVEN!" he announced, "I only failed History and Divination, not that I was planning on continue those anyway. An 'A' in Potions, Herbology, and Astronomy. An 'E' in Charms, Transfiguration, and Care for Magical Creatures, and…" I saw him pause for a second, rereading the same line over and over again before speaking in a quiet voice, "wow, an Outstanding in Defense!"

I just smiled at the young man as he looked over at me, "Nope." I said, "It wasn't because of me. It was all you." He just nodded in return and allowed his mother to coddle him, much to her pleasure.

Next it was Hermione's turn. And, to not much surprise, she had nearly straight 'O's, not that she still didn't complain about them.

"Oh, I _know_ I got at least three of the questions wrong on the Charms exam!" and "Oh, the practical for transfiguration brought down my grade! It's terrible!"

"Scary that one is still." Ron muttered, making Mrs. Weasley hide her smile behind her hand, "Hermione, I _barely_ got an 'E' in Transfiguration." The girl scoffed at that, clearly she didn't respect Ron's ability to pass very much, "That exam was hard enough on its own. I bet Harry only got an Exceeds Expectation too. And you can't think _he's _stupid, can you?"

I'll give Ron this. Where I was stronger in the Practical and Hermione in the Theoretical, Ron had us both beat when it came to plain and simple common sense and tactical thinking. He knew what buttons to push at what time on the girl.

"N-No! Of course not, It's just that with your study habits…" the girl peeled off, starting to blush in embarrassment, before she turned her attention to me, "Well then, what _did_ you get?" she asked, eyeing the thick parchment in my hands.

I could tell that it had more inside it than a normal Hogwarts letter, even Ron and Hermione's. Opening it I caught the first thing to fall out with honed seeker reflexes… Fitting considering what it was: A Quidditch Captains Badge. Oh Bugger, like I needed this on top of everything else… Worse was that I couldn't refuse it, it would look too out of character.

"Wicked!" Ron and Ginny both shouted while Mrs. Weasley came over to give me a large hug that I welcomed more than willingly. Hermione just frowned at the badge that rested in my palm… Of course she wouldn't approve of something that I found fun that wasn't academic.

"Well?" she asked, looking like she wanted to rip the parchment out of my hands… It wouldn't have been the first time she did something like that.

Frowning I pulled out one of the other two pieces of mail…

I personally couldn't believe how well I did. "I got ten OWL's." I announced numbly to everyone's surprise, "'A's in Astronomy, Herbology, and History, 'E' in Potion's and Divination, and 'O's in Care, Charms, and Transfiguration." It was amazing, truly.

"That's only eight." Hermione declared, practically glaring at me. I blinked at her owlishly, not comprehending what she said, "That's only eight classes and you forgot your Defense grade… not to mention you only took nine classes to start with."

Looking down I saw how many OWL's I received listed there:

Congratulations Mr. Potter. On behalf of the **I**nternational **C**onfederation of **W**izards sponsored Wizarding Examination's Authority I am proud to announce that after testing that took place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry we have awarded you Ten (10) **O**rdinary **W**izarding **L**evel's. Congratulations, once again. _~Griselda Marchbanks, Head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority._

But only eight grades were listed below them.

Reading on I found out why… I had the _worst_ luck when I wasn't on Felix Felicis:

On behalf of the Board of Governor's I would like to congratulate you for your performance on the Defense Against the Dark Art's exam given by the Wizarding Exam Authority on the Eleventh of June, 1996. You have received a grade beyond an Outstanding and have thus been selected to receive the Hogwarts Governor's Award for Excellence. In addition to receiving an Outstanding Plus in Defense Against the Dark Art's you have been given the opportunity to ascend a year in this subject and will receive your remaining years tuition-free. Thank you and good day. _~ Lord Michael Carpenter, Head of the Board of Governors for Hogwarts. _

Oh, I could feel a headache starting to form right behind my eyes. Normally when I had headaches they came in right behind my scar, but this… this was right behind my eyes and made them feel like they were about to burst, already the pain was starting to spread to the rest of my head.

"I… I got an O+ in Defense… and the Governors Award for Excellence." I truly didn't know what it meant, though based on Molly's squeals and Hermione's glare it was good. I was soon swallowed in a Molly 'Mother Bear' Weasley bear hug, getting slapped on my back by both Ron and Ginny, and Hermione gave me a faked smile that made her face seem ugly… I had never once thought of Hermione as ugly before that… it was rather depressing really.

When everyone was calmed down I asked "What exactly is the Governors Award? I know that in muggle schools they can be given out, but I wasn't aware that the Governors did anything other than get in the way of the running of the school."

Hermione seemed personally offended by this bit of ignorance, "Each year the Hogwarts Board Governors give out two awards. One to OWL level students and one to NEWT level students. They pick a student that has gotten an O+ on their exams and for OWL students, give them a free ride, financially speaking, for the remaining time at Hogwarts in addition to receiving an extra OWL score and being allowed to advance a year in their O+ subject and take the NEWT a year early." And with that she settled on a glare.

While the others continued to praise and congratulate me I looked at my questionable friend. I knew she took pride in her grades, but why was she so angry at me for doing _good_ in school? Idly my eyes moved to the parchment sitting next to her. I wanted to pick it up right there and then, but knew I couldn't.

"… a tough break though with your potion's grade." Ron was saying when I came back into our conversation.

"Why's that?" I asked, looking confused, "I think an 'E' isn't bad, all things considering… I guess it _is_ Snapes fault I'm failing potions then." Oooh… that git was gunna get it if I had any say about it. Suddenly I was a little more secure with my decision to give him away to the Dark Lord.

Ron nodded in agreement, but still refuted the point, "Yeah, but you need to be able to get a NEWT in Potions to become an Auror, without that you won't be able to identify poisons or other dark potions, not to mention antidotes. An Auror without that is just a liability on the field."

"Yeah." I nodded, though internally I was almost laughing. Becoming an Auror _really_ wasn't in the plan's for my time after Hogwarts… at least, not anymore. Something told me that, unless I was still spying, I wouldn't be fighting with the Ministry's forces. "But what _I_ want to know is how I got an 'E' in Divination?"

My friend got a grin on his face, "Maybe you gave a prophecy!" he said… Like I _really_ needed that.

All in all it was a decent night… one that got a little better and a lot worse that night when Arthur returned home and brought me into the largely expanded office area. I had only been allowed back into the room twice since my first conversation with the man, once to help bring in groceries with the others and once to grab my new trunk and clothing.

It was nearly the same as the other times I had seen it, though with the addition of a few papers that looked like they could be interesting to peruse through this time… maybe even find out what ever happened to Dung. If it weren't for the larger man here with me I might have done just that. Sitting down Mr. Weasley started with a pat on the back for me, something I had been receiving all day.

"I can't tell you how proud of you Molly and I are of your achievement, just as your parents would have been, I'm sure. Your mother and father both won that award: your father in his NEWT year with Transfiguration and your mother in her OWL, it was how she managed to receive her Charms mastery when she was twenty. Percy was the only one of our son's to receive the Governors Award, in his NEWT year though, in Arithmancy."

"It is a very exciting proposition for yourself, to be able to skip a year of Defense… But a much harder one than you may think." The many became rather quiet, making me pay all the more attention, "You will have one less class on your load the following year, but you really will need to push yourself in order to keep up with the high demand needed to get a decent NEWT grade this year. Furthermore is the fact that by the second year of NEWT's a student is required to cast silently in every class and almost every spell, something you will not have been introduced too yet, in addition to having a spell list that all second year students _must_ know by the end of their first year of the classes… something you have not had a chance to learn."

Hearing all of this made me _really_ realize how much shite I really was in. It was too much, I would never be able to learn it all in a single year, be the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, head the Death Eaters in Hogwarts, keep the DA going, spying, and I still had to do everything to keep Tracy safe… something that I had a feeling wouldn't be easy… And everything seemed to black out for a second, as if I took a very slow blink.

When I came to Mr. Weasley was kneeling in front of me, holding my face in one of his hands, stroking the side of my head with the other one, "It's ok Harry, breath! Breath in!" Opening my mouth I did as he said, finding myself gulping at the air with great zeal. "You scared me my boy, I know it's a lot to bear, but it's ok."

"Sorry!" I got out, still breathing quite hard, not entirely knowing why that had happened.

The man just smiled at me, "Nonsense, it is a lot to bear, I know, and it all hit you so suddenly, but you didn't let me finish." Oh… great… there's _more!_ "You get a waiver for the summer in order to practice magic and get set for next year." Oh… That _was_ good… very good.

"A Waiver?" I asked stupidly, not really believing my luck, "You mean I can use magic legally now?"

"Ah! So eager…" The man said with a fond smile, as if I still wasn't gulping down air like water, "I remember seeing everyone of my boys when they realized they could use magic outside of school and it is always a beautiful thing… But no, it is only for this summer, next year you will need to wait until your seventeenth birthday to use magic outside of school. I made it a point of getting the spell list from last year and I talked to Mafalda Hopkirk after Molly Floo'ed me with the good news." With that he slid me several parchment scrolls, one with the list of spells, one with a list of assignments that I would have to have done before the school year started, and one with a basis for silent casting. "You're all set up and I am more than willing to spend each night yelping you with your casting if you would have me."

My eyes lit up at hearing this… My school year would be one from hell… But today? This summer? I was getting the chance to use magic outside of school and learn spells that no one in my year would know in addition to silent casting… Now I could get that _damn_ diary.

With a fit of inspiration I looked at Mr. Weasley, a large smile on my face, "Do you think it would be possible to let me practice in here from time to time?" I asked.

The man blinked but agreed, "I'm not sure why you would want to." The man admitted, "Wouldn't it be easier to do so outside?"

I nodded to him, as it _would_ have been easier, "Oh, I agree… But if I'm going to be practicing then I'll want to have some time alone to do so, not to mention that I don't want to feel like I'm flaunting the fact that I can use magic to the others… I think Hermione is upset at me for some reason and Ron quickly becomes jealous at things others have and he doesn't… Not that I blame him for it, I was like that too when I was younger."

And the fact that I might be able to learn a thing or two extra had nothing to do with it… really, I swear on my Marauders honor…

Thankfully the man took my request and explanation at face value. So for the rest of the summer I was able to come and go into the office without being questioned left and right about what I was doing in there.

Now I also had what I needed to get a hold of Hermione's diary. So one day, nearly a week after I had started practicing, I used my wand to hurry up my chores, making the girl's, who had been working near me, frown and look at me questioningly.

"Guy things." I answered their unasked question, knowing that Ron would be done with his de-gnoming soon. Heading towards the door I watched them from the corner of my eye as they turned to return to their work, shooting a silent _Confundus_ their way.

I had, luckily, found that silent casting was rather easy. It was just a matter of concentrating on the spell you wished to produce, something that was made easier if you used the proper wand movements still, which I did. Generally speaking the more you use a spell the less important the wand movements were. Some people used nothing more than a flick or a jab of their wands for all but the most complex spells. For me if I didn't add the wand movements the spells ended up a touch weaker than normal, not that it was a huge deal.

Reaching the hall I sent off another wordless spell at the stairs, a silencing spell, and started climbing, not minding the creaky boards at all. A quick _alohomora_ and three taps on the handle of the door I was soon walking into the small room that the two girls shared.

… It was oh so very pink. Apparently Ginny was a hardcore Holyhead Harpies Fan.

Not minding that I began looking, finding nothing in any of the basic spots, I.E.: under beds, on the top of the closet, behind or under the dresser.

Fed up I muttered a quick '_Accio Diary_,' one of the few spells I still needed to speak to get working properly. Mr. Weasley said it was simply a matter of time and practice though. I was rewarded with two objects hitting me in the back of the head… no, make that three. Apparently the books had been hidden by a false bottom in one of the dresser drawers… So much for originality…

Looking down I saw what I was looking for: Hermione's 'diary.'

…

And Ginny's too… Grinning I picked up Hermione's, wondering if I would have enough time to look through the redhead's journal too.

Ok… so I'm a creep in a few ways I guess… but come _on_ I'm a guy.

Well, apparently the witches of the magical world had come across creeps once or twice… As Granger's diary was locked, "Oh _come on!_" I growled, tapping my wand on the diary offering up several spells, "_Alohomora… Aperio… Mellon… Specialis Revelio!"_ the last one was the only one to work.

It was a remarkable spell, Scarpin's Revelaspell. It was one of the new spells I was required to learn for my NEWT year Defense class, as it would reveal the magical properties that an object or potion held, though exact names were not given. In this case the wispy purplish white words that floated above the object read: _Whisper to me the words of hiding._

A password then, one that had to be whispered to the diary… Hermione… Hermione…

Jokingly I held the thin book to my mouth, "_Priorities…'_ and with the whispered word the book opened.

"That girl needs to get her priorities straight…" I muttered, mirroring my best friend from our first year. To make the password to something so private something so… _you_… it's just stupid.

Grinning still began opening the book when I heard a large thump on the landing outside the closed door…

To Be Continued…

* * *

Ok. So I must say that I loved the reviews from the last chapter, a lot of good stuff. The longer and more full your review, or if it is just a really good and short review, the more likely I am to reply to it. I love hearing from you all and thankyou for everything you said.

Once again, any reasonable questions will be answered and I am sorry for any grammar mistakes, I'm American: XD… But really, I am sorry, though usually my computer catches them and the ones that it doesn't are words that are spelt right… but is not the right word altogether.

P.S. to the reviewer with his Private messaging off: I can't reply to your review if you have that blocker up.

OH! And P.P.S.: You can now stalk me on Twitter too, same username, Dragonblade3200.


	4. Chapter 4

For a second I didn't move, not even to cast a spell. The door was closed and of the six that lived in the house, half of them were likely to come in.

Fifty/fifty chance… My luck can't be bad all of the time…

Right?

I could tell that whoever it was had stopped on the platform outside Ginny's room, making me hope it wasn't one of the girls. I had '_Confounded'_ them, so it shouldn't be… Molly might have been doing laundry today... or she may have been out in orchard, I couldn't remember at the moment. Ron might be it, but he would have no reason to come into Ginny's room.

Then again, _I_ had no legitimate reason to go into Ginny's room either, but still, I stand by my logic.

"Blimy, when did dad fix the stairs?" I could hear Ron's voice, sounding confused, "Then again… Whatever, I'll let someone else deal with it." And with that he continued up the stairs, these ones creaking and squeaking like crazy.

Letting out a sigh of relief I cast two more spells, one of which was a mandatory NEWT spell, like Scarpin's Revelaspell, the other a basic spell learned in first year _"Geminio! Pack!"_

And like that I had copies of the two diaries and the originals went back into place, followed shortly after by the false bottom. "She really should have that protected." I said aloud, picking up my spoils. I was stealing and spying on them… that doesn't mean I can't look out for them all still. Besides, if _I_ know how they have their things protected then I can still get to them, even if others can't.

How did Dudley describe it once? A Backdoor? You protect something tightly for other and then leave a key or map so you can still get in even though the owner thinks you can't. I think it was in regards to a computer, though I didn't know how one would put a door in a bunch of electronics'.

Never minding that though I popped my head out the door and made sure I was good before I exited and closed the door tightly, cursing my lack of knowledge on locking Charms. Praying that they didn't notice I kept going upstairs, silencing those stairs as well. The squeaking _was_ rather annoying

And for all my effort… Ron caught me trying to hide the two books in my trunk.

"_There_ you are!" he said, startling me. Looking around I was surprised to see he wasn't _actually_ in the room… but above it. To be more precise he was in the attic, his head hanging out staring at me, "Ginny and Hermione said you had finished up and ran off to do 'Guy things.' I was actually a little relieved to _not_ walk in on you doing anything." And from that his eyes traveled to what was in my hands, making me sweat a little. Just what I needed.

"Um, yeah… So what are you doing up there anyway?" I asked feebly, "I mean I thought that the only thing that was up there was the family ghoul?"

Ron nodded his head, a small smirk on his face as he half pushed, half pulled, himself forward and flipped down the small hole to land on his back in bed, "Yeah, yeah, so why didn't you tell me you were playing spy today?" he asked, pointing at the books in my hands, his other hand behind his resting head, "If that's all you wanted to do you should have just said something."

Guiltily, I threw the two onto the bed, hoping I could keep his mouth shut, "Listen Ron… I know we think Hermione is-"

I was cut off by a laugh, "Harry! We don't need to make it so serious… It's a guy thing, stealing girls' diaries. Besides, I don't wanna be left out of the loop. If Hermione is watching one of us she's watching both of us." This last bit was rather stern, something unusual for Ron, "I don't like it either… And the fact that your spying back isn't necessarily good, it means you have a secret you don't want her or Dumbledore to know…" and just like that he was smiling again, "Then again, I _do_ want to read my sister's diary and see what she does when none of us are looking. Trained by the best of the best of the best she was: Fred, George, and Bill." And with that he pulled over Ginny's book and started reading through it, the duplicate not being locked at all.

Bracing myself I opened my own slim book, dreading what I would find.

'_Entry 1: I have decided to try and get as close to them as possible. I could just sit in with them as usual, but they don't always like me around at school and I can't fly with them… They'll have to be grounded somehow so I they can't escape from me that way. If they ignore me it'll probably work better… Maybe that will work better than trying to push myself in… A compromise of both, then, will clearly work best. Harry isn't due to arrive for another week, so I'll have time to perfect my strategy…"_

Hmm, interesting. We did kind of ignore her at first… But she kept butting in and _then_ trying to be invisible… Not too great of a tactic.

"_Entry 2: Professor, I don't know when you'll get this or who will get it to you first, but someone came in through the Floo and I think it might be Harry. Mr. Weasley is talking to him now and the silencing charms went up around the room as usual. I took the opportunity to try and listen in on them from different angles and with a few of Fred and George's little toy's and prank item's. Some of them are rather good, but whoever gave them the money to do this all should be ashamed! Either way I could not hear them, so the meeting room is secure… until it can be tested by a person using a wand to try and find a way in… Perhaps if I win the Governor's Award then I can test that for you as well… The charms just lifted, I must go!" _

Oh, she was _waiting_ for me. That sneaky little witch… Well, at least I'm the one who gave the twin's their startup money, so suck on that Dragon's Egg Hermione.

"_Entry 4: Harry is surprisingly upbeat after his stay at the Dursly's. Perhaps they are getting along better than he told us. He does seem to be a bit different than the last time I've seen him, more mature perhaps. Either way I haven't heard anything between the two… They haven't even started their reading's! Why I should… Sorry about that professor, I forgot this wasn't a real journal._

_Entry5: There's not much more to report. I got a hold of one of the twin's pranks that they left in their room, a prototype of the Extendable Ears that just needed one side where you want to listen and the other half goes with you."_

Hmm, that's the one that Ron saw I think. It's when we first knew she was spying on me for sure.

"_Entry 8: I'm going to-Sorry, Ron was trying to read over my shoulder. Annoying little bugger… Never really liked him. All we have in common is Harry, and even then I can't get him to tell me anything about what they talk about. His brothers, parents, and little sister he could go on and on about. But Harry? Not a bloody chance in hell… OH! Forgive me Headmaster, I didn't mean to swear… Um, I'll be trying to put the new extendable ear in the boy's room. They've been rather rude and kicking me out, when I _know_ they aren't going to bed for at least another hour."_

And this would be the one the night before we first talked about her spy games… I have to admit, it makes me smile to hear that Ron has my back like that. Looking over I can see Ron nose deep in Ginny's diary, muttering Dean's name under his breath over and over again menacingly… Oh, I can't wait to read that bit!

"_Entry 6: Darn! Ron caught me trying to put the transmitter in place. Oh, a transmitter is a muggle term for the listening end of a device like the Prototype Ear. You would think after he took your offer of training he would be a little more helpful, but he seems to insist on getting in the way of my efforts to monitor Harry. He knows what we're doing and not only does he refuse to help or talk about Harry, he insists on running interference! The nerve."_

That… THAT DIDN'T MAKE SENSE! Ron knows that she's trying to spy on me and yet… what's going on? What training? And why is he still trying to help me then? Maybe she'll have more

_Entry 7: Ron and Harry both found me out this time. I don't know what I'm going to do, but it looks like the transmitter isn't going in there room. I guess I'll put it in the conference room sometime and listen in to test the wards there again, they might not stop a magical device that works from both the inside and outside."_

Nothing, dammit, but I should check for the bug in the conference room the next time I'm in there… Maybe I should give it to the twin's to see what they say about it… Maybe have some made for me personally… They do owe me quite a bit.

_Entry 8: BLOODY HARRY POTTER! That Governor's Award was MINE! __M__-__I__-__N__-__E! __Mine! He isn't the one who's taken the hardest of the classes and passed not one or two, but _THREE_ extra exam's! I have slaved and worked and _HE_ is the one who gets it? And beating me on the transfiguration exam! HOW? He slacks off and does NOTHING, NOTHING, NOTHING! Defense I will give him, but Transfiguration isn't his, it's mine. Not to mention that I'll have to work on monitoring him some _other_ way, since I won't have the waiver to use magic like he will… I THOUGHT you were petitioning for me to get the Award this year? What happened, why didn't I win it? Well, I have to go, Mrs. Weasley is calling us down to celebrate Harry's award… Damn him."_

That was just… scary. She had been getting a bit hateful in her writings, but more towards Ron rather than me… I don't know what to say really.

But who is she to blame me for doing well on a test? I DO study just as hard as she does, if not as fanatically as her. The bitch just isn't as good at the practical's as I am and never seemed to realize that I do exceptionally well in Professor McGonagall's class.

And to think Ron and I do nothing? Well I guess that means we _won't_ be telling her we have half our reading done yet. Doing it while she's in here is just too frustrating… HA, she thinks we kick her out to talk behind her back when we're just reading in peace while listening to the wireless… The bitter irony.

"_Entry 9: Success! That idiot Potter is using the Order's conference room as a training area, probably hoping to keep tabs on the Order rather than being left in the dark. I can't overly blame him for that though: lack of foreknowledge on his part get Sirius killed. He should have learned more and looked closer before he leapt. In the end his mistake killed-"_

Breath in, remember to breath! Clear your mind, Clear your mind… Clear… your mind… You didn't kill him Harry… Lestrange killed him… Dumbledore's Prophecy killed him… The lack of knowledge shared with others killed him…. but you didn't kill him.

I didn't want to read on, I really didn't need too either. I hadn't talked about anything in the room that wasn't meant to be heard. Granger will no doubt know what spells I've learned from my practice, probably learned a bit from my lessons with Mr. Weasley on silent casting… Oh, that would work good. Hermione would be getting a little something from Mr. Weasley soon… nothing pleasant either, I hope…

"So how long have you known she was spying on me?" I asked Ron, who slowly closed the diary he was reading and put it under next to him on the bed.

"Since before she started it." He admitted, staring at the hole in the ceiling that led to the attic, "Dumbledore came to us both at the end of last year, asking us to relay information that you gave us to him, so he could better understand you."

"But you didn't." I finished, looking at the boy confused, "You took a bribe of some sort from him, training, and in return you what? What did they get out of this?" I asked, looking at the boy who looked up smiling.

"Oh, it was rather amusing really: They asked for our help. Me though? I said no, and that I should tell you right away what was going on, so that their plan's, whatever they might be, would be ruined. So they offered me something just to keep my mouth shut… I… We all have our secrets Harry." He said at last, giving me a pleading look, "If I tell you anymore than that I'll lose my training. I can't speak of what anyone else said or anyone else who was involved unless you already know… and then you wouldn't need me to tell you. I'm still here for you Harry, through thick and thin, like always. Who else followed you into the Forbidden Forest looking for giant spider's? Or helped you push Lockhart into that hole?"

"That deep, dark, and foreboding hole…" I continued with a grin… He was right. He was still Ron… He wouldn't lose himself in the coming war… something told me Ron would hold on to himself better than I would. Besides, he's always wanted to step out of his brother shadows and he did… right into mine. Dumbledore knew just what to offer him to get him to keep quiet; a way out of that shadow.

"Just think of me as Ron: Better, Faster, and Stronger!" Blinking I looked at the ginger headed boy… Did he just quote the Six Million Dollar Man? He saw my look and just grinned harder… Ok, so maybe Ron was a little more complex than I first gave him credit for… But he was still Ron none-the-less.

"So… do you want to trade diaries?" I asked, getting a grin as we threw the dairies to each other, an idea forming in my head.

* * *

My newest plan, luckily, was executed the next day. Arthur had taken off from work to come with Molly and us 'kids' to Diagon Alley. We were all excited, obviously, since we had been stuck in the and around the Burrow for the past three weeks. Longer for Ron and Ginny.

Diagon was just how I remembered it from my most recent visit here. The people were downcast and hiding their faces behind cowls and hoods. It came as no surprise that there were so few of them as well. The place almost seemed grey in every aspect; even the air seemed to be a foggy grey. But I knew that, quite literally, right below our feet there was another world that would be so much more vibrant and alive come night fall.

A shame I would be at the Burrow.

Either way we started doing our basic shopping first. Ginny got a mix of Percy, Ron's, and the Twin's OWL level books, Ron a mix of the Twin's and Percy's NEWT books, so Hermione and I were the only ones to actually get new books for the subjects we were taking this year. I actually had to brace myself when I picked up the NEWT level Divination book rather than the Potion's book… an Auror I would not be, a Seer I most likely would not be, but prepared? Oh yes… I'll be prepared… no matter how much I hate it.

So Divination, Transfiguration, Charms, Care, and two years of Defense Against the Dark Art's books were all purchased. Since I would have a lighter load in my seventh year I decided to take Care still, as it wasn't _that_ hard of a class and Hagrid almost never gave out homework other than reading, not to mention Divination was a joke, considering _I _got an Exceeds Expectations on that exam.

Color me ambitious.

After that we made it to the store I, and nearly everyone else, had been waiting for: **W**easley Wizarding _W_heezes! I liked it because I owned one third of the place… And the fact that two of my closest friends worked here and invented some of the most useful objects I have ever come across… One of which was a special Prototype Extendable Ear…

I made it a point to bring Arthur with me, since he was the one that would try and take action against Hermione if she was spying on me. I don't know why, but I had a feeling if there was one person to do so then it would be him. Luckily I wasn't using this to get to her for spying on me… No, the transmitter was in the conference room… of the Order of the Phoenix. I just happened to be there every now and then when there were no meetings.

"FRED!" I yelled out over the crowd as soon as we entered to rather large building. Now I knew why nobody was on the streets; they were all _here!_

"Can you settle for a Forge?" the twin I had yelled at said, grinning fiercely, "Come on, I'll give you the grand tour: Please, keep all hands and feet inside the ride at all times and Ron, you're too tall to ride, get out."

Laughing we all followed him as he showed us the million's of different prank items, more than a few of them catching my eye as potentially useful, though there were three that I _had_ to have..

Peruvian Darkness Powder, for instance, could be rather useful if I could find a way to see through the cloud of darkness myself. And the line of defensive clothing would be rather intriguing, considering only a few of those on the side of the Ministry would use the Unforgivable Curses. Lastly there were the Decoy Detonators… Just throw and watch as a blast of smoke and bright lights exploded out… I don't believe I need to mention how handy this could be for some daring escapes.

As we walked I piled some of everything I liked into my bag, waiting until we were finished to show Fred… or George, whichever this one was the extendable ear piece.

"…we're still trying to get some of the traps to become less… dangerous, but luckily we're right on the path to success!" he announced, finishing at the _Weasley Booby-Traps: Because Boobs deserved to be trapped!_

"You've done excellent for yourself Fred!" Arthur announced, smiling at his son proudly, "I am quite curious about those Muggle pranks you mentioned…" he said, trailing off.

Putting my hand on the man's shoulder before he could take off, I produced the Extendable Ear Piece, "Fred, I found this at the Burrow yesterday, can you tell me what it is? I thought I had seen something like it around you or George before, but…"

The boy's eyes widened at seeing the small transmitter, "My GOD! You found it! We had been looking everywhere for that before we left, where was it?"

"In the conference room." I said quietly, trying to hide my smile, "You-know-which!" This caught Arthur's attention, that was for sure, and Fred seemed to calm down quite a bit.

"You mean _only_ that piece?" giving him a nod he took it from me and held it up, "It's been used too… Crap."

Arthur, who was confused as to what was going on, decided to break his silence, "What _is_ it son?"

Getting a guilty look on his face the young man responded, "I'm sorry to say dad, that it's a spy device me and George developed, a Portable Ear if you would… Someone's been spying in on your… meetings, most likely."

I must say, one doesn't see the look that was on Mr. Weasley's face without being a little afraid. It was a hard look, as if his face had turned to stone. I could easily see this man leading a raid on Malfoy Manor, or any other number of abodes, hunting for dark magic.

"Is there any way you can trace it back?" I interrupted, "I mean I'm sure you two lost those at some point, there so small!"

Grinning the boy tapped his wand against the small grey device, "There, get within twenty feet of the other piece and you will be able to-" _**MEEEEEERRRRRKKKKKKK! MMMEEEEEEERRRRRKKKKKK!**_

And with that we found what we were looking for… Hermione _really_ was a bad spy. I mean to keep the evidence on your person? Not to mention that I hadn't even needed magic to find the listening device, it was on top of a bookshelf, sticking out over the edge slightly.

Well, if the loud sound it made wasn't enough then the bright flashing lights that were coming out of her shirt _was_. In the end the girl got a dressing down right there in the middle of the store, with the promise of more once Professor Dumbledore could be contacted and not once did the man slip or mention anything about the Order.

In the meanwhile _I _had gotten both pieces to the Twin's, shooting them a conspiratorial smile as I did so, "So… how much do you love me?" I asked, getting a pair of grin's in turn.

It was an hour later that we returned, me with a bag of free goodies from _**WWW**_. Life was good for the moment.

Free supplies from my own company, no Hermione spying on me for at least the moment, I could use magic as I pleased and was learning things that were beyond useful, and I had a birthday at the end of the week… Life was good.

* * *

As it turned out that week flew by faster than even I could have imagined.

On my birthday we all did a rather large dinner, with more than a few members of the Order of the Phoenix showing up for it. Speaking of the Order, there still wasn't any news of Dung and everyone was starting to think the worst had happened, not that anything could be proved one way or the other.

The meal went by with plenty of joviality and good times, ending with Molly baking a rather large cake in the shape of a big black dog that was laying down. The pure sentimental feeling I got from that almost made it impossible for me to eat it… Until I realized that Sirius wouldn't have it any other way…

So I ate his head.

The twin's jokingly tried to offer both Ron and Hermione the 'under-tail' section of the cake, not that it was anatomically correct until they spelled it. It didn't help any that Tonks was eating the slice of cake when they did the spell change.

The gifts that year were some of the best I had ever received.

The Twin's presented me with a new and improved Portable Ear, under the impression I would only spy with good intentions… Right, about that…

Hermione got me what was, in my opinion, the funniest present of the year: a book called _Defense Against Those Who Walk in the Shadows_. On the outside it could almost be mistaken for a Defense Against the Dark Art's book… but clearly Hermione didn't pay much attention when she bought it, as it was an book on protecting against espionage and using counter-intelligence tactics and spells… She bought be a book that would help me learn to spy! If she had read it she might not have messed up so badly…

Ron's gift was the most useful of the whole groups, right ahead of Hermione's: an amulet of calming and alertness. It did just like I said too, you wear it and it helps keep you calm yet still aware and alert.

"Ron, this must have cost a fortune!" I said, surprised that I would ever be saying that to my friend.

But he just waved it off, "Naw, I got Fred and George to pay for it. All I had to do was offer to play test dummy a few times this summer before you got here. But I thought it would be a lot more useful than that Sneakoscope from Egypt."

I nodded my head, though felt obliged to point out to him, "You do realize that Scabbers was always around back then?… and we _do_ get up to some pretty bad stuff, there's no way that thing would work right around us." This just made the boy grin. He knew alright…

The only other gift of real meaning at the party came from Molly and Arthur… A watch. Not just any watch though, this watch had belonged to Arthur's Great, Great, Aunt Tessie… Therese Potter to be exact. Arthur and I sat down together in the conference room, sitting before the fire as he handed it to me

"She brought this with her into my family, one of the few heirlooms that belonged to her father's family. On the front is the family crest, the one that has been in place for nearly twelve hundred years."

It was a beautiful work of art, a silver stag and a gold gryphon that seemed to be on their hind legs fighting in front of a Welsh shield, a small inscription of Latin was on the back of the old pocket watch: Umquam Fortis, Umquam Laurifer!

"What does it say?" I asked the man, looking at my family's motto with wonderment. I probably could have deciphered it with some time, but Arthur knew and was more than willing to share.

"It's quite fitting really, considering all you've done. Ever Valiant, Ever Triumphant! That is you Harry, brave, and you seem to come out on top every time… Just remember who you are at the end of the day and it'll be ok, no matter what you do."

I was actually surprised at the tears in my eyes, "That's the secret to making the war worth it… Just don't lose yourself…"

"Ah, good, you understand then!" he said, rubbing the top of my head, "And your right, it is… those were the words of a wise man, words that we need in these times of conflict we live in."

I don't have anything else to say to that.

I did receive one other gift, though it was waiting for me on my bed when I went to sleep that night… Or rather, when I _tried_ to sleep that night.

It was a book. Nothing overly large, certainly not a tome the likes of which Hermione reads, but a book still. It had no name on its black cover and nothing to indicate what it was. Pulling free my wand I tapped it, casting the Revelaspell to no effect.

Slowly I picked it up, finding a small patch of parchment in the front cover.

'_To you, Harry Potter… May you never forget who you are!- DG_

Opening it to the first page I could feel my eyes widen in surprise: It was on Archibald Potter. Fingering through it I noted that the book couldn't have been more than fifty to sixty pages… Fifty pages, that's all that it took to tell my ancestors story, and yet he was still feared throughout America and his creations still existed all throughout England and Europe.

Sitting on my bed, my wand resting on the nightstand where it remained lit, I began reading…

* * *

The rest of the summer felt like a giant whirlwind of books and reading. I probably spent more time reading the rest of that summer than I did the past two years at Hogwarts, we all did.

Divination, Care for Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Art's, Transfiguration, Charms, the history of a certain Dark Lord, and Hermione's gift on how to be a good spy, added onto that was the occasional Defense Assignment's that I had to have done, practicing the spell list for the coming year, a few spells of which I still couldn't get down silently, and the fact that I had to write in my own journal from time to time…

I also noticed that, the closer it got to September first, that the harder it became for me to concentrate. I was nervous, of that I had no illusions. How would I handle it all? What would I actually _do_? I mean… how does one go about setting up a Death Eater meeting?

I had to figure it all out… I have to be brave, I had to be victorious.

Umquam Fortis, Umquam Laurifer.

I would be triumphant… Though I _did_ wish I had a bit more Felix Felicis than what I did. A few sips here, a few sips there, it could make a world of difference.

… Perhaps I could owl order some from Diagon Alley, or Knockturn even? How though? I guess I would have to actually go there first and find a supplier.

Until then I was reading…

My next and last big plan for the summer actually happened due to a mix of Daphne and Hermione's gift's from my birthday and Voldemort's own words to me: I was going to bring the Black Crafter back to life.

The idea struck me about a week before we returned for school. I was reading through Hermione's gift, nearly done with it. It was an impressive book, one that had been recommended by Flourish and Blotts, as well as the ICW as a masterpiece of the Protective Arts, something that I was sure drove the girl to buy it for me. More than a few tricks were in the book. Where to hide things, how to hide them, how to find things that were hidden, not to mention the hiding of people, be it yourself or others. One spell that I found in the book was perhaps the most difficult and most illegal spell I had ever come across, save an Unforgivable: The Eximo Incantato.

Why it was illegal was pretty obvious, it erased a person's magical signature from an area, in addition to being able to erase the echo's of spells from a wand, how far back it would go depending on how much power was put into it. If just anyone was able to do that then it would be easy for just about anyone to get away with magical crimes. The only reason it was in _this_ book, was because it was so difficult to properly perform. It took power and skill on par with that of the Patronus charm. The only difference between the difficulty of the two spells was that the emotional factor in the Patronus made it easier to cast than the emotionless spell.

But, with it in _my_ hands I could get away with ton's of things and neither the Ministry or Dumbledore would be able to track it back to me with normal magical spells. And then it hit me, how I could get away with leading the Death Eaters and keep any suspicion away from me: Give them a red-herring to chase after, a face that they could hunt down. Keeping track of Harry Potter would be nothing in comparison to hunting down a second up and coming Dark Lord…

The book had mentioned the possibility of creating new identities in order to hide transactions that you didn't want linked to you… Why would this have to be any different? After all, I could hide my magic from being detected as the one casting the spell, it would be as if Harry Potter was never there…

The night the idea started brewing in my head I couldn't sleep. I hadn't been able to sleep, so instead I pulled free a book to read at random. The book I had grasped was the thin volume that Daphne had sent me, _The Histories of Archibald Potter._ Propping it open I began to read.

Two passages caught my attention in particular:

"_In the mid 1770's the British Colonies in America began to destabilize and the crown requested for Potter to make a motion in the Wizengamot for British Wizards to aid in the fighting against the Colonies in Rebellion, fearing that the magical communities in across the ocean would be fighting against the muggle British soldiers and aiding the rebels. _

_The motion was crushed in a landslide loss for Archibald, who had, till then, held an iron grip over much of the Ministry. The risk of exposure and an isolationist policy led to a uniting of many groups within the government against Archibald's motion and soon the man found himself beret of his position as the King's Wizard."_

It was so much like our own time, in a way. Britain as a whole requested our aid… and the Ministry refused in an act of cowardice. Because the Muggles might learn of Wizards? If the Wizards overseas had fought in the Rebellion then there would have been just as high of a chance of the Muggles learning of the magical world. In the end though, like Voldemort, Archibald went against the Ministry's wishes and fought, in order to keep the magical world hidden and Serve King and Country.

Hmm…?

… I wanted a second identity for the time I was at Hogwarts… So what about an identity that already existed?

Or better, a Dark Lord that has already been established and was feared… A Dark Lord that has come back from the beyond the grave.

Closing the book I sat up in bed, pulling my wand free. Looking over I saw Ron was asleep, though I shot a simple Third year Sleeping Charm at the boy anyways.

What would I need to do to become Archibald Potter though?

The Clothing and facial wear won't be a problem, I realized, as it was a full set that Tracy would be bringing into Hogwarts for me. Occlumency…? Well, I could detect a person when they tried to invade my mind, but lesson's with Snape were doomed to fail. I COULD just not show up to them though, and probably wouldn't have if I got half a chance. That would have to do until then.

Idly I looked over to my trunk, pulling free the shield hat I had gotten from the twin's… and the gloves and cloaks… It would only be a bit too new to be from the Rebellion, but still, it would do. It was all fine looking truth be told, not just rags with enchantments, not that you _could_ do such a thing. The better the base material the stronger and better the enchantments will be able to be. Either way it would cover the top of my hair, the only part that I really had trouble with.

Alibis would be the only thing I had to worry about then, I realized as I shoved those away. How and when I could get away from Gryffindor and my friends in general… Then again… I _was_ in my NEWT year for Defense… I wouldn't want to get in the other sixth years way with my more advanced study's or them in my way… I would just have to actually study away from them for real that was all. Besides, _everyone_ knew that NEWT's were a killer, the fact that I would be studying so much could even be covered by the fact that I was a sixth year taking a seventh year course…

…Maybe I could pretend to have a girlfriend?

Maybe I should get a girlfriend! Idle thoughts of a single night nearly two months ago pops into my head… Pushing the thoughts aside I concentrated, coming up with a plan… Archibald Black Crafter needed to make his grand entrance… And tonight was as good a night as any…

It was a simple thing really, sneaking down into Hermione and Ginny's room. The stairs had been silenced weeks ago and nobody seemed to want to undo my spellwork. Silencing the door I cast a quick detection charm that let me see shadowy imprints of people even through walls and doors. Another NEWT charm and it was bloody useful. It wasn't x-ray vision, but for a Marauder like me? It was invaluable.

Seeing the two of them were at the very least laying in bed I unlocked the door and cast a silencing charm before I entered, shooting off two more Sleeping Charms. The spell was made for stunning small creatures, but on an already sleeping or nearly sleeping human it ensured they stayed out for a good night's sleep. Slowly I walked over to the dresser, pulling free the false bottom and the 'diary' of one Hermione Jane Granger… or was it Jean Granger?

You know, it really doesn't matter at the moment.

"_Priorities"_ I whispered, opening the book to the latest entry. With a wave of my wand words appeared in the diary in an elegant and sophisticated fashion… Something Harry Potter could never write…

_**They'll never be safe from me, Albus, not the girl's nor the boy's, but particularly not my descendent… **_

_**A new era comes, and my face shall mark the Death of the old**_

_**~ Archibald Potter… **_

_**I shall see you in Hogwarts Albus… You… **_

…_**and my heir…**_

Happy with what I had I gave a quick wave of my wand, making everything pack itself away once more, before taking a deep breath, casting "_Eximo Incantato" _on the room, removing my magical signature from the area. Dumbledore would be able to tell magic was performed… but not that it was mine. It was a _really_ tiring spell.

Exiting the room I left the door opened, canceling the silencing charm and once again saying the incantation, _"Eximo_ _Incantato!"_

Oh, I was going to sleep like a babe tonight. Casting it twice might as well have drained me. I hadn't felt this weak since first learning to cast the Patronus. Getting back into my room I cast a quick and silent Prior Incantato, noting that casting the other spell removed both the signature from the area and the spells from my wand… Good…

And with that I was out.

* * *

"HARRY! RON! WERE GOING TO BE LATE!" Hermione yelled through Kings Cross as she waited next to the barrier before entering it herself.

"Hey Ron?" I panted, running with my trunk carried in my hands, my best friend doing the same.

"Yeah!" he wheezed out.

"You think we should have woken up sooner?" There hadn't been any luggage cart's in the bloody station, making everyone carry their trunks… And by everyone I mean Ron and I. This was our second trip for the trunks and I, personally, was starting to regret sleeping in.

"Naw! We're just on time… Wouldn't want to break tradition after all, would we?" at the rate we were going next year we would miss the train for a legitimate reason.

Soon though we were in the station and on the train, not even having time to stop to say goodbye to Mrs. Weasley. In fact Ron had to drag his trunk on the train while it was _moving._

All too soon the redheaded boy had taken off with his sister and Hermione for the Prefects meeting. Neville was off with Luna Lovegood… no doubt helping her with her… Charms…

Sad thing was that even though _I_ understand what she meant, Neville, did not… Poor bloke.

Me though?

I was cool, collected, calm, and had a plan… Yet I felt like throwing up.

Not bad, all things considered.

My plan from a week ago had worked perfectly and I had a feeling I would be able to handle the year, just as long as I didn't do anything stupid… Like join _another_ Dark Lord on his quest for domination…

It would start out simple. I would get a hold of Tracy or Daphne so I could pass on my little Journal with new information and get my… effects. The first night there I would do some running around in the castle, getting a feel for things. See how the new security stands up, maybe make my way to the different common rooms to get a better handle of their layouts. Even I have to admit, as well as I know the castle, I don't know it perfectly.

The DA, I refused to call it Dumbledore's Army anymore, would have their badges send them a message tomorrow, having everyone meet in the Room of Requirements… Oh god, I could tell now that that room was going to become the new 'Astronomy Tower' for hormonal teens. With Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil aware of its existence it would be anyways.

I also decided to recruit Ron as a sort of… Sub-captain for my Quidditch Team duties. Once again I was going to use my need to study for my NEWT exam as an excuse. It would give me a chance to get away from everyone with little fuss…

Unfortunately I felt I was going to be studying a lot anyways, not just to cop out and go do other things. Defense was a difficult NEWT level class, of that I was sure, as I had completed almost a year's worth of backed assignments over the last month of the summer. I learned a load, sure, but it _was_ going to be hard.

The train ride and sorting all went over fine, though once again I could feel Ginny's eyes on me. It might have something to do with the book I was reading when she and the others had returned. I answered truthfully, that it was book on one of my ancestors from the seventeen-hundreds. I need to be careful of Ginny, she's not as stupid as she looks. Hermione is smart, but Ginny? Ginny is dangerous…

I was actually surprised to see that Snape wasn't at the head table with the teachers. Maybe I'll be lucky and Voldemort took him out. Though the man at the table next to Professor Sprout was shooting me these strange glances, greedy glances that reminded me of my second year Defense teacher. Surprisingly I could see Trelawney up there next to Hagrid… I had hoped that she hadn't been brought back on after Umbridge fired her last year, not to mention that she rarely left her tower to join the rest of the Castle for meals. Though, since Firenze was up at the table too, you still held some hope for that class.

Dinner was done and desserts had just been cleared when Dumbledore started his speech.

It was nothing new or exciting: Welcome back old students, welcome new students, Filch ban's fun, Quidditch tryouts, and that the word Forbidden had not changed definition. Only things of interest were that the school needed a new announcer for the Quidditch match's. Then he announced the new teacher…

"We are pleased to welcome back an old member of the staff this year: Professor Slughorn!" Slughorn stood up… I wasn't impressed. He was a squat old man with a balding head of hair and a mustache that reminded me a bit too much of my uncle's. "He is a former colleague that has _generously_ agreed to take back his former post as Potions Master."

I ignored the whispered din of the students as I glared at the head table… Oh… I _hated_ Dumbledore right now.

"Can you believe it Harry!" Ron Whispered to me, making me want to smack the look off, "Maybe he'll have a lower requirement and you can take Potion's and become a Auror after all! It's GREAT!"

I turned my head and looked at the ginger haired boy, "Ron… There's one person missing from the staff table and no new Defense teacher… I think it's _much_ worse than either of us could have dreamt…" As he blinked his eyes and looked up at the table I got the satisfaction of seeing him pale considerably… At least he understood, in part, what I did.

"PROFESSOR SNAPE, HOWEVER!" the old man said, raising his voice to be heard over all the students, "Will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Art's teacher!" And with that the room went deathly quiet… I was half tempted to shout out in defiance at the old man… One year left of Defense, taking the hardest year of the class yet… and I got to have Snape…

Clear your mind, clear your mind… must make way for the torture chamber… clear your mind!

Dumbledore continued, as if he hadn't said a thing and that the fact that _Snape_, the most despised man in Hogwarts history since Phineas Black was Headmaster, had become the Defense teacher was a normal thing.

"Now… As everyone in this castle well knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are at large once more…" I paid attention to what was being said, but it was at this point that I turned my gaze _away_ from the Headmaster. I wanted to see how others reacted to this news. "and they are gaining in strength."

Well Dumbly, you couldn't be more right. Though from the looks of things Malfoy couldn't care less, as he was levitating a knife with his wand, using it in a floating sword to mock fight with Theodore Nott, who had commandeered a fork and spoon combo to fight back with. All of the Slytherin first years and a few of the other younger years seemed to pay attention to Dumbledore's warnings about Voldemort, though few else did. I tried to catch Tracy's eye while looking over at the Snake's table, though her back was to me so I moved on.

Interestingly enough it was the other houses that had the strangest reactions to the 'Light' wizard's speech. Gryffindor table had more than a few faces filled with resolve or worry… one in particular, a seventh year that I had been told was a Death Eater, stuck out due to the scowl he wore across his face… Methinks Archibald will need to pay him a special visit soon.

Ravenclaws were, amazingly, neutral towards it all, save the first years who all wore masks of worry. There were more than a few Purebloods in that group, though there were more than a few Half-bloods and Muggle-Born students there too. I wondered what it was like in the house of the Eagle during these troubled times? Hmm… the Map show's where the different common rooms are… I could probably meet up with Eddie and Marietta some time… give her a _big_ surprise…

Now if only I can sneak past the protections on the girls dorms.

I do, surprisingly, find one tell sign on a Hufflepuff. It could have been from a million things: The fear of the war since her Aunt was nearly killed, nervousness due to everything that was going on in the world… But judging based on the grasp she had on her left forearm, Susan Bones had something she had to hide…

* * *

So… you know what the problem with plan's are?

They never seem to survive first contact…

I was able to escape Ginny, Hermione, and Ron easily when we got back to Gryffindor Tower, as they were all off on prefect duties. On my back was a familiar pack that I just didn't see a reason to get rid of. In it I have a couple of books, a map, two cloaks, and most importantly, a flask.

Not just any flask though, a very special flask.

This was an empty flask, its contents drunken not three minutes before.

I figured that- as this was the single most chaotic night of the year, when teachers would be meeting with new students, the Head Girl and Boy would be meeting with the Headmaster, the Prefects would be just getting started and not have all the new details of their new patrols hashed out completely or in meetings with the other's- that should try and push my luck as far as possible.

Dammit if Hermione wasn't right about _Hogwarts: a History _though… Oh well, right now I was the luckiest man in the school.

So I continued skipping down the hall near where the Slytherin Dungeon's laid… well, at least their entrance did. I turned the corner and found one of the people I wanted to see… or more importantly two of them, "AH! Ms. Davis, Ms. Greengrass… A pleasure to meet you." Idly I looked down at the parchment in my hand, there wasn't a single person outside of the Slytherin Dungeon… oh, and the map had the password, how useful that would have been in second year…

Daphne chose to glare at me; Tracy just looked cold, not a thing getting through her stoic mask of Occlumency. _"Potter!"_ the former hissed, looking all around, "What are you doing? You aren't to be seen with us or any of the other's."

I just waved her off of course, it wasn't a problem, "Everyone but you is in the Slytherin common room, the majorities are wrapped around Malfoy it seems." Seeing the girl blink at me in confusion is rather amusing.

"How do you know that?" She asks, stepping forward to see what I have in my hand.

Snapping shut the map I grin at her, "Now, now, I have _my_ Mischief Managed, but you seem to have curious eyes… You know what they say about Curiosity, don't you?" Shoving the map in my pack I pull free my journal of information. Wrapping one arm around the girl I spin her around, walking forward to Tracy, who seems to have developed a twitch in her left cheek, "It's ok to smile… cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye."

This gets the reaction I was hoping for, as the blond girl's cold facet breaks and she smiles. "Harry," She says, giving me a hug that I return one armed, "Not getting into too much trouble are you?"

"More than you can imagine." I respond… it's the truth too! "Please tell me that your father wasn't behind the Governor's Award for Excellence!" I beg her, hearing a squeak from the much shorter Daphne. Looking down I see that the girl is wide eyed and beat red, "You okay there Daph?"

Tracy's smile just gets bigger, as she looks at Daphne, "Oh, I think it's a mix of you referring to my father in public, hugging her, and me hugging you." She explains, finally managing to get the black haired girl to respond as well.

"The Dark Lord has forbidden you to have intimate contact with Potter!" she exclaims. Pointing an accusing finger at the other girl… Hmm, apparently Tom didn't like me sleeping with his daughter. Though soon her finger was pointing at me… No, wait, that was her wand, "And YOU!" she said, pushing me away, "Will _never_ do that again!" Okay, no touchy-touchy with Greengrass.

Rolling my eyes I hand Tracy my journal, "Well then, here's my first update, get it back to me soon so I can keep writing down the good stuff. And make sure that, if he has anything there, your father remove it from the Gaunt house… well, shack if Dumbledore is to be believed." This makes them both look at me strangely, though I cut them off before they can say anything more, "It's all in the book. Now can one of you point me towards Slughorn's office, I feel like getting to know our new Potion's Master."

"On the second floor, facing the Lake." Tracy responds, looking at me strangely.

On a whim I rub my hands evilly "Excellent! _Excellent!_ My plan's are all coming to completion!_"_

"You have plan's?" Daphne asks before deadpanning, "The world may very well end."

Grinning at her I exclaim, "Oh yes… there are plan's… All thanks to you my sweet!" Walking forward with my arm open for another hug, making her raise the wand once more. "Well, it's true. If it weren't for _The Histories of Archibald Potter_ that you sent me I wouldn't have been anywhere _near _ready… Speaking of my plan when can I get my, I'm sorry, _Archibald's_ uniform?"

I get another strange look, followed by an answer, "When we can manage to get into the Slytherin Common Room. We're not the most liked in our house, thanks to Draco. He seems to think that all of us should bow down to him because of his father's position among the Death Eaters."

"And since yours is higher than even his fathers, even if you cannot announce it out loud, you refuse to bend your back." The smile I receive is all the confirmation I need, "Makes sense and, once again, I have a plan. Until then the password is '_Reign of the Dragon,'_ no doubt set by the ferret himself. If he changes it again then come see me and I'll let you two in. Tomorrow night we can meet up, second floor bathroom, Tracy will know the one."

And with that I'm gone, Marauders Map in hand once more. She said that Slughorn would be on the second floor… Ah, and there he was, with Cormac McLaggen… A smart person would stay away for the moment… A Lucky person would move right in.

In a matter of minutes, thanks to a passage near Snape's former office, I am up to the second floor, just a short jaunt from the duo. A muttered 'mischief managed' and a quick shove of the map into the backpack once more, I walk in.

The two of them are sitting near the professor's desk, a few boxes lying around still packed, apparently laughing at some joke that one of them had told. Loudly I knocked on the door, bringing their attention towards me, "Hello Cormac, Professor Slughorn, I hope I haven't interrupted you at a bad time?" I ask politely. If there was one thing that the Dursly's managed to pound into me it was how to act polite, even when I _really_ didn't want to… They had been the ones that I had to use this skill against the most.

"No! Not at all my boy!" He said jovially, waving his wand to conjure another chair for me next to the seventh year Gryffindor. "I had actually hoped I would get to meet you soon Harry, may I call you Harry?"

Smiling I shake the man's hand, noting that he looks rather walrus like up close like this, "Of course." I replied, sitting in the chair… The man knew how to conjure a comfy chair that was for sure. "I am sorry to interrupt but, as I'm sure Cormac could tell you, I have a reputation for… meeting… with new faculty members." At the very least the comment makes the jock next to me laugh, a wry smile on his face, "I was hoping to do so on my own terms rather than those of another."

In truth I had sort of been… guided into coming here. I had drank the potion and since then the short, fat, man had seemed to stand out in my memories. I don't know why, but I had a good feeling about trusting Felix tonight… a real good feeling…

Then again, it _was_ Felix Felicis, so I guess that's the point.

"A smart move, my boy!" the man announces, looking at me approvingly, "A _very_ smart move. I must admit, you are part of the reason that I am here this year, a rather large reason." Truthfully I'm shocked at his admission, though I know I shouldn't be, not after five years of teacher taking a 'special interest' in me, "And judging on your expression you were not expecting it. Dumbledore is an amazing individual boy's, never forget that. But, as _my_ Potion's Master always said, you need to look beyond the real world to see the magical world and you must look beyond the beyond to see those who pull the strings of both worlds. Dumbledore is one of those people pulling the strings… Never forget that."

Already this visit has been more than worth it. I had only _started_ to get a feel for this man, but I could tell that, despite what face he might seem to put on he knew how things stood, "Well then, Cormac was telling me how disappointed he had been not to receive the Quidditch Captaincy for Gryffindor this year." Oh yeah… I should put that on some time soon.

"Ah, that would be my fault Cormac." I admit, turning to the student Death Eater with a smile. He wasn't smiling, "Though there _are_ position's available this year, so you're in luck. I wasn't aware you played, I don't believe I've ever seen you at tryouts before, what do you play?"

Slughorn answers for the boy, instead, going on about McLaggen's virtues as a Keeper.

Fat chance there, he looked like a Beater or a Chaser rather than a Keeper if you asked me. Despite what some may think you needed more than size to be a good Keeper, you need to be light and agile to get between the three hoops quickly. Ron would be a better Keeper for the simple fact that he was tall, lanky, and rather thin. Cormac was taller than the giant that was Ron, but also broader and much more muscular. In a fight the Irish man would win every time, but in the Keepers position Ron would probably beat him hands down and without a doubt.

Soon though the boy was making excuses to leave, clearly not wanting to be here with me, which the professor accepted gracefully, leaving the two of us. "I see Cormac got to your early, you haven't even finished unpacking!" I said with a smile that wasn't totally faked, "You mind if I help you finish up? Two sets of hands are better than one after all." This earned me a grateful smile from the man, who eases out of the chair to make his way toward a box.

"I wasn't sure if I would get the chance to finish tonight. Mr. McLaggen caught me right out of dinner, he did. His father was one of my students, a member of the Slug Club, as it were."

"The Slug Club?" I asked, pulling free a few knick-knacks to put on his desk.

Setting up a few pictures he responds, keeping one tucked under his arm, "Ah, yes! I love getting some of my more promising students together so we can all interact. After all, the youth of today are the adults of tomorrow. I look at more than just potion's too. Those who excel in other classes, those who are the most social, or most athletic. Why, one of my favorite students actually didn't get a single NEWT… but she _did_ manage to become the reigning champion on the International Dueling scene and a major player on the South American Broom Racing Circuit. It was a shame that she passed so early, but her lack of advanced knowledge worked against her in the harsh Amazon. Went hiking and became the victim of a Lethifold, according to her life-partner."

I can't help but shake my head at this, "A simple Patronus and she would have been safe." I say, looking at an hourglass that seemed to be quite filled.

"Ha! Most wizards and witches ten years your senior probably couldn't use that Charm." He comments, walking over to straighten some of the things you put on his desk, "Though if the rumors are true you were able to teach more than a few students how to do the Charm just last year. Just like your mother in that respect, she could teach anyone." And with that he hands me the photo he was holding.

On one side I saw Slughorn, next to him was a tall lanky man who seemed to look like… Snape? Looking on you see one more face you recognize: Lily Evens… your mother.

"You knew my mother?" I heard myself asking, though clearly he did, based on the hand that rested on her shoulder.

He nodded gravely, "Indeed… She was my favorite student. So much talent…" he sounded genuinely sad.

"I heard she managed an honorary Potions Mastery before she graduated." I put out there, seeing the man grin.

"Oh yes… one of my greatest victories if I do say so myself and one of hers as well. A former student of mine, who had graduated, stayed in the school in order to work on his Potions Mastery. Well in Lily's sixth year he was nearing completion, though had come across a roadblock in its final stages. Lily offered to help, alongside two other students. By the end of the year she was the only one working on it still and managed to come up with the final piece of the puzzle. Rather than presenting the final product with Lily present though he gave her a false date and showed the work as his own, earning his Mastery for the work. I comforted the poor girl when she came to me crying, and pushed her in the right direction, telling her what I hadn't told him: how to _improve_ the potion. He was an amateur compared to me, and with that nudge Lily began working based off my little hint… Eventually providing an _improved_ version of the Wolfs Bane potion, the one that is used today. Since it was an improvement on a modern potion, rather than an original work, the re-creation of a lost potion, or an improvement of a potion that hasn't changed in at least a thousand years, she was unable to earn a full Mastery, like she would have being listed as a partner in the potion's creation. Though it _is_ generally accepted that the Potion Master lied and is blacklisted in magical Europe. I have no doubt that before the time you turned three she would have had her own Potions Mastery."

It was an amazing story, one that told me so much about my mother. I never knew she like potions so much, only that she had an honorary mastery. I assumed it had just been a school project that she had done well on, not something like _that_! Besides, everyone else always said she was great with Charms.

"I… Thank you professor!" I said, trying to calm myself, feeling the mantra calm my mind and make my eyes stop watering.

Blinking at me he smiled, "Ah! Not a problem, not a problem at all! I'm a little surprised; you seemed rather hard hit by the news. I had assumed that the other professors would have told you about her, after all, the only ones who didn't know her personally were Madam Hooch and Professor Burbage."

Oh… That pissed me off, "Well," I started, my face calming down completely, "I was not aware. No doubt thanks to the man beyond the beyond." I don't know what surprised the man more: My reaction to the news or the idea that Dumbledore would go so far.

The next few minutes were filled with unpacking in complete silence, save the occasional clank or thunk of objects being moved.

"Well, I best be going then Professor." I announced when we were finished, making the man nod.

"Yes, yes, I will see you at potions… Tuesday I believe."

Scratching the back of my head I looked at the man rather sheepishly, "Ah… yeah, about that professor… I kind of don't have the supplies for NEWT potions." Seeing his owlish look at me I explained, "Well Sna- Professor Snape required an Outstanding on OWL's to get into his NEWT level potions. I only got an Exceeds Expectations so I wasn't planning on being in potion's this year."

"An 'O'?" he asked, frowning at me, "Foolish boy always was too much of a perfectionist. Demanding an 'O' to get into the advanced classes, no wonder there have been a surge in the number of potions tutors in England of late." And with that he pushed me into the potion's lab, pointing towards a cupboard on the other side of the room, "Head in there and pick out one of the _Advanced Potion-Making_ books, I'll get a spare cauldron from the front of the room for you to use, just make sure to clean it thoroughly!"

Running into the back room I see only two of the books left, an old and worn copy that had seen better days and a nice new one.

Picking up the new one I put it under my arm before grabbing the older of the two, skipping through it to read some of the graffiti next to the Dreamless Sleep Potion:

_Stir Counter-clockwise once out of every three clockwise stirs, rather than once out of every five, it helps the rat tail react with the base faster, meaning it will have less time to react with the Sloth Brain's, reducing the amount of addictive film that is produced as a byproduct… If I could get the Sloth Brain to dissolve all the way it would be best, but … no, better to have it dissolve less… Using smaller heavier pieces of brain, less area for it to react dissolve and react with the tail… A nearly addiction free Dreamless sleep potion! Save for the dependency factor, though that's more mental than chemical_.

Wow… that was actually… pretty good! Flipping to the inner cover I gasp, putting the new 'nice' book back.

_**This book is the Property of the**__** Half-Blood Prince!**_

That's the kind of sign that you just don't ignore…

Heading back into the classroom I see the older man standing over a cauldron that was starting to react, getting more vigorous as it went.

"What is this?" I ask, though I can almost tell, it's on the tip of my brain…

Looking up the man is almost surprised to see me, "Ah, got it then? Yes, good. This, my boy, is Liquid Luck!"

"Felix Felicis!" I said, getting an approving smile, "Good, good! Yes, Felix Felicis, Liquid Luck, Bottled Fate, it goes by many names, but in the end it is one of the single most powerful potion's in the world. One of the most difficult to brew as well. It's been nearly six months now since I started this batch and it seems to be finishing now, only another day or so left until it is ready for bottling and shipping." Shooting you a secretive glance he whispers to you, "Don't let the others know, but I plan on giving some of this away as a prize in class." Well that made your day! "A small bit, just twelve hours of luck. The rest will be sold, nearly a thousand galleon's for a full batch, a little less for this one when I take out the little bit.

Color me inspired, "Professor, would there be any way I could manage a small bit from you?" I ask, looking at the man intently, "I mean with the classes I will be taking this year it's going to be hard."

"No!" he says, looking at me with a small grin, "I'm afraid that I wouldn't be a responsible adult if I let you use it for a few Sixth year classes."

What? If I was in seventh year it would make a difference?

Nodding my head I try and look disappointed, succeeding remarkable based on the look on his face. Now for the hammer against the anvil, "Your right sir, it's just that… Well, I happened to have won the Governor's Award this year, in Defense Against the Dark Art's… So I'm taking quite a few Sixth year classes in addition to a Seventh year Defense course. The load just seems like it's only getting heavier, now that I'm taking potions too…" damn, I hadn't even thought about that! Dammit Snape! "Not to mention that Professor Snape and I don't seem to get along well at all. He can't seem to see past my father." Hook, line, and sinker.

"Well…" he says, thinking it over, "I can't just _give_ this potion to you… I'll need some form of compensation you see."

Looking over at him I could see a calculating gleam in his eye…

"How close _are_ you to Professor Dumbledore Harry?" he asks at last…

Fate's Hand or the Devil's Luck… Either way it's good to be me.

* * *

Ok, so it took a little while longer to finish this chapter, though I still think it was done really fast. Once more I beg for reviews and will answer any reasonable question that is sent my way. I hope you all enjoy it and FYI next chapter we get to meet our main antagonist: Archibald Potter...

And you thought there was no cliff hanger...


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